Prostitute Schmostitute
by Iffy Jr
Summary: Derek/Stiles college/prostitute/stripper AU. "On the one hand, Stiles is not sexy. He's awkward and he laughs at his own jokes. On the other hand, he's good at PRETENDING that he's sexy. He doesn't trip over himself and he's perfected his smirk. But then there's this asshole: Derek Hale, god of everything perfect and he doesn't even pretend. Stiles wants to be jealous, but…"
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Whoops, a Sterek college/prostitute/stripper AU all rolled into one. What have I done? I don't know, but it was one hell of a blast! It's mostly a prostitute thingy, which I'm sure was reeeally hard to guess form the title. It's 67 pages and about 33,000 words (including notes) in length, all in Stiles' POV, and he's paying his way through college by selling himself and also the occasional pole dance because he's got friends that do it and can hook him up once a week or so. And yeah so he's friends with most of the characters and then he meets Derek and I threw in some plot twists here and there and _bam_ a fic that I had a bunch of fun writing so I hope that all y'all enjoy it just as much! Enjoy the Sterek and the awkwardness and the sub-pairings that are important but not really! ^-^ Also I made up a few first/last names for the plotline, but they're not that important. Anyway, onward!

PS there's some character death but it's not important who it is so much as how they die so I'm just gonna give you who does right now: Deucalion, Ennis, and Kali.

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**Disclaimer**: You know the drill.

**Summary**: Derek/Stiles college/prostitute/stripper AU. "On the one hand, Stiles is not sexy. He's awkward and he laughs at his own jokes. On the other hand, he's good at PRETENDING that he's sexy. He doesn't trip over himself and he's perfected his smirk. But then there's this asshole: Derek Hale, god of everything perfect and he doesn't even pretend. Stiles wants to be jealous, but…"

**Pairings**: (Main) Derek/Stiles; (Other) Scott/Allison, Danny/Ethan, Lydia/Jackson, Erica/Boyd, Caitlin/Emily, Ennis/Kali, eventual Isaac/Cora, some random prostitution pairings  
**Main Characters**: Stiles, Derek, Cora, Deucalion, Kali, Aiden, and Ethan.  
**Rating**: Mature  
**Additional tags/warnings**: m/m, m/f, and f/f pairings; strong language; AU – College; AU – Humans; romance/adventure; smut (no knotting since they're human); Top!Derek, Bottom!Stiles; prostitution, strippers; bathroom stall sex; minor character death, self-defense murder, non-graphic violence, alcohol abuse

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[Chapter summary: In which Stiles spends a night on the streets, Deucalion does not like being called "Duke", and Peter is totally that guy.]

**Chapter 1**

_October 18, Friday (11:42 PM)…_

On the one hand, Stiles is not sexy. He stuffs his face until food is falling out of his mouth and wears flannels with sweatpants and sometimes he forgets to put on a different pair of underwear after he showers. He doesn't like to tie his shoelaces and then he trips over them and he bumps into walls and then apologizes to them and he buys bouquets of flowers but then doesn't have anyone to give them to so they just sit sadly in vases in his own apartment (he says "his own", but he actually has a roommate). He's lonely and whines and likes to cuddle while watching chick flicks one day but the next he's an independent man who don't need no long-term relationship and he doesn't take anybody's shit and likes watching horror movies by himself with the lights _off_.

On the other hand, he's gotten really good at _pretending_ that he's sexy. He doesn't eat in public (which is probably why he stuffs his face so much when he's by himself) and he stands seductively against walls and pushes his fingers through his hair to make it stick up more in the way that he styles it and apparently he has a really sexy wink when the right people look at him. He tucks his laces away so he doesn't have to tie them in the first place and swings gracefully around walls and _doesn't_ talk to inanimate objects and buys flowers for random teaches (because he's a suck up like that) and doesn't laugh at his own jokes and obviously he's _never_ seen Mean Girls what kind of a straight guy has ever seen a movie with Lindsey Lohan in it? Not him, nosiree.

If he _was_ straight. Stiles swings both ways, and he's technically been out of the closet for the last four years, but it wasn't an official closet opening that he had. Stiles goes to college, but compared to most students, he doesn't really have much of the same job that they do. He does a lot of things, but nothing he'd like to advertise to anyone that happens to ask him what he does for a living. Most people don't like to hear that he sells his body and does the occasional night at the local strip club since he's got some friends there that love to hook him up. _That's_ why he got good at pretending that he's sexy, but that's only when he's in public. In private he's one big mess that his roommate, Peter Hale, likes to giggle at and sometimes invite his one night stands over to giggle at with him. One time he actually brought home a girl that bought Stiles for one night a while ago, and that was one hell of an awkward night. Peter doesn't bring that many women home, though. He's got some burns on his face that tend to turn a few people off.

As much as Stiles hates what he does, though, he's good at it. He knows what places to hang around to get the most business and what to wear to draw that business in and he knows a lot of the regulars well enough that he doesn't even have to ask what they want anymore. Around the strip club is not, in fact, a very good place at all, since most of the people who are there are too afraid to actually go through with more than a lap dance. Clothes, though… Maybe he can wear flannels with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows when he's at college, but out on the town it's a little bit different. He mixes it up a bit, but most of the time people—being both men _and_ women—like him the most when he's clothes that are basically a little feminine. T-shirts that are oversized enough that they cover the mini-shorts he wears around (he sort of feels like a bitch when the pockets are longer than the actual shorts, but hey, it helps) and with those shorts he _has_ to wear a man-thong or else they totally stick out and that's just awkward. Sometimes he wears boots, but most of the time he just ends up in Converse, or flip-flops if it's in the warmer months (which is not right now, being that it's just over two weeks before Halloween. October will not be warm for much longer).

Stiles pulls in a drag on his cigarette, which is not usually something that he does, but it's cold out and Heather gave it to him about an hour ago before his procrastination of using it crumbled and he shrugged before lighting up. It's not a habit he wants to get into; as if he needs to waste _more_ money. Heather is a very old friend of his, but they lost touch before either of them spiraled into such a life. They ran into each other on the streets once and they've been friends again ever since. Unlike Stiles, who's all of a prostitute, college student, _and_ occasional stripper, Heather is just a prostitute that even lost her virginity out on the streets.

Stiles is a sophomore in college at the age of twenty-two, currently working towards becoming a high school psychology teacher. At first he wanted to go into theology, but then he decided it would be better to read people like a book so he could figure out which students are having trouble at home so that he could help them from having the same hell of a life that he does now. Contrary to some popular belief, Stiles does _not_ like selling his body so he can survive through college/life. Working out with the strip club kids (he says kids, but most of them are older than he is) is fun, though, and the nights he ends up there instead of on the streets are his favorite nights out of them all.

He sighs the drag out, remembering his first night out like this. He met Erica Reyes that night, queen of this side of the tracks. But, even though she had already been doing it for a year before that (her _sophomore_ year in high school, which is heart wrenching to Stiles because he didn't start until the summer before his senior year), she didn't have any friends since she kicked most of them out when _becoming_ queen. Stiles obviously catered (and still caters) to different needs than Erica could/can, though, so she was okay with teaching him the basics. What to wear, what to say, and how to stand to make it obvious that he was selling. That was four years ago, so by now he's gotten most of his own style, but he still owes her a ton for helping him with what she did. Erica is easily the most popular in this particular section of the city, but Stiles is proud of himself for coming in a close second. She likes stilettos, leopard print heels, smirking, and growing her nails out so that she can file them into points.

Stiles has almost had a few buyers for the night, but the first got a phone call and the other wanted S&M related things that Stiles doesn't do. Blood and bruises are not becoming to most people, so Stiles tries not to flaunt that look as much as some others do.

"Hello."

Stiles looks over to the man that's walked up to his other side, smiling when he sees that it's the face of a regular. Deucalion Simmons is not Stiles' favorite person, but it's easy to get along with him because they know a lot of the same people. Deucalion is, basically, a pimp in other territory that holds four other "girls" (society likes to think that only women can be over sexualized, but obviously they haven't been to the right clubs). Kali is a bitch and _is_ into S&M, Ennis is huge and does a lot of role-playing (firefighters and maids and the like), Aiden only does people with vaginas, his twin Ethan only does people with dicks, and Matt is one of those that will do literally anything as long as he gets paid for it. Stiles doesn't know the five of them very well except that he doesn't get along with them, but that doesn't stop Deucalion from trying to get Stiles into his pack as well. Stiles works alone, though, because he _is_ going to get out of this and he _is_ going to graduate from college—but, in the meantime, Deucalion pays _very_ well.

"Duke, hi," Stiles says fondly as he puffs a breath of smoke into the man's face. He knows that Deucalion smokes cigars every now and again, so he's not going to get hit with the walking stick for the smoke.

Deucalion gives a crooked smile. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

Stiles hums, dropping his cig and smashing it out with the sole of his classic black and white high-top Converse. He's in the oversized t-shirt look tonight (and yes, it is ice pink), and his mini-shorts are white. He's dressed for slightly warm weather since it's still semi-warm October, but mostly so he can show himself off a little more, his legs only shamefully shaven when he has to go to his gym class (the only one he needs to take for his four years of college, thank god) three times a week. It's either that or they're gross in the mini-shorts, though, so he deals with it.

"Maybe you do hate the nickname," he says, leaning closer and wrapping his fingers lightly around the wrist that's holding the walking stick, "but you certainly don't hate me."

He smirks. "I hate it when you're _alone_."

Stiles smirks back. Even though Deucalion can't see, his expressions are automatic. "The usual at your place?"

Deucalion nods, so Stiles moves to link their arms together before moving down the street. Deucalion can't drive since he's blind, so he doesn't have a car, but the condo that he shares with his "girls" (the condo is huge, but even so, all of his five are out and about on this rather warm Friday night) is close.

"How are the twins?" Stiles asks as they step into the buildings elevator.

Deucalion's nod is a little solemn. "They're doing well. Ethan has been seeing a college boy, but they're taking it…slow."

"Do you know his name?"

"Danny something."

Stiles knows that, if Deucalion doesn't know Danny's full name, then he's still looking for him—and you do _not_ want to be found by the pimp of your boyfriend. So, being the nice guy that Stiles is, he pretends that Danny Mahealani _isn't_ in his abnormal psychology class. He's taking just two classes this quarter, being the abnormal psychology class and also criminal psychology, which is actually taught by Peter. It's nice being able to ask him questions outside of college.

"How's Scott doing?" Deucalion asks in turn.

Stiles smiles, thinking of his best friend. Scott McCall has an internship under Alan Deaton (a veterinarian professor at the college), and he's been Stiles' best friend since his freshman year of high school. Stiles managed to keep his street life a secret from him up until the summer _after_ his senior year, and ever since he's been trying to help Stiles get out of it. The problem with trying to get a job, though, is that you have to have experience for almost everything. There's always fast food, but he makes more money on the streets and in strip clubs, and he needs that money to get himself through college so he can actually do what he _wants_ to do.

"Good," he says in reply. "He's been dating Allison for three whole years, now."

Allison Argent is the daughter of the most well known family in the entire college. All of her grandpa, dad, mom, and aunt work there as professors, so it's hard _not_ to know who Allison is. She's a junior at the college this year, and Stiles has her mom for abnormal psychology.

"Good to hear," Deucalion says with a nod. "Is her name still all of his passwords?"

Stiles smiles. "You know it."

When the elevator dings open, there's one person standing in wait for it—and _damn_, Stiles is impressed. Short and dark hair, perfect stubble, jade green eyes, sun kissed skin, and a chest that Stiles wishes he got more of in buyers. He's even got a black leather jacket over a t-shirt just a smidge too tight, hands shoved into the pockets.

The only thing wrong is that he's frowning. Stiles knows that it's very obvious that he's a "girl" from off the street, so for a moment he thinks that the man is frowning at _him_, but he realizes that he's instead focused on Deucalion.

"Evening, Deucalion," he says darkly.

Deucalion's eyes narrow. "Hello, Derek. How's Cora doing?"

Derek grits his teeth. "Better than you are, I see." He steps to the side, allowing for Stiles to lead Deucalion out of the elevator.

"Yes, I'm sure she's doing _much_ better on that new pole of hers while I have _others_ getting my money."

Derek's actually growls a little as he walks into the elevator. "At least she's not using that money to _buy_ people," he says as he presses a button inside.

Deucalion only hums at that, and because Stiles is just that type of guy, he licks his lips and winks at the guy. One of Derek's eyebrows rises, but that's all that Stiles sees before the doors close in front of him.

"I haven't seen him before," Stiles says as they move to the left of the hallway. The building is large, but being that it's a building of condos, there are only two on each of the five floors. Funnily enough, the Argent's all live on the first floor—and the fact that they never need the elevator is the only reason Stiles has never run into them in all his two years of coming to this building with Deucalion, much to his appreciation. Allison knows Stiles and what he does, but he'd rather the professors not know anything about it.

"He just moved in here with one of his sisters a couple of months ago," Deucalion says as he pulls out his keys.

Stiles takes them from him to unlock the door before handing them back. "Oh? Two months and you already hate him?"

"I've known his family for a very long time," he says as they move inside of the condo. "We got along before I became, for lack of a better description, a pimp."

Stiles grins. "There's no other description for it, Duke. You're a pimp."

Deucalion smirks a little as Stiles leads them back to his bedroom. "You're right, I'm a pimp. It sounds so young."

Stiles laughs, reaching his other hand over to grip onto his bicep. "What are you, twenty-something? You're totally young." He is definitely older than twenty-something, but Stiles likes being an ass-kiss sometimes.

Deucalion simple chuckles at that as they push open his bedroom door.

All of the lights in the condo are off, but Stiles knows that it's a very nice place. They're up on the top floor of the five; all of the condos are huge in the first place (big enough to comfortably fit six people, though that may be due to the fact that Kali shares a room with Ennis and Aiden shares one with Ethan). Besides that fact, each of his five "girls" all like to decorate it when they can, so it's kind of a jumbled mess of what each of them likes the most, but it still manages to look nice. Kali painted all of the walls black (she's not a very colorful person), Ethan (the _king_ of manly gay) combated that by making sure all of the furniture was made of bright colored materials, Matt is into photography and likes to line the walls with picture frames of things that catch his eye, Aiden (the _king_ of feminine straightness) does a lot of the clothes shopping (which is decorative because most of them never actually put anything away), and Ennis apparently has a thing for potted plants (especially cacti, so it's really hard to have any sort of sexual relations in the living room).

As Stiles flicks on the light in Deucalion's bedroom, though, he frowns a little. "Did you redecorate?"

"It's the new bedspread," he says, motioning to the red and grey. "Ethan and Kali bought it for me."

Stiles snorts, closing the door at the same time he manages to kick his shoes off by the wall (he always puts everything by the wall so Deucalion doesn't end up tripping over them). "I'm surprised I didn't hear the bomb of their voices go off from wherever it is they were buying it." (Ennis and Kali tend to argue quite a lot.)

Deucalion smiles, holding out his walking stick. "They almost got get kicked out."

Stiles snorts as he takes the stick and rests it against one of the corners of the room. "I knew it."

The night commences at that point, and Stiles is very glad that Deucalion really is pretty good looking for his age. Maybe he doesn't have anything on Robert Downey Jr., but really, who does? Deucalion doesn't have a lot of demands when in bed, which is nice. It's not something he'd do in his free time, but the pay really is good, so he deals with it. He is kind of selfish, but… Well, it's what Stiles does, so he deals with that part of it too.

**XxX**

_October 19, Saturday (1:37 AM)…_

Stiles is back out at his usual spot about two hours later, Deucalion tucked in and asleep in his bed. Honestly, Stiles could sneak into his house and steal a million things, but all of the six who live there know that he's the only one who knows how to get into the condo with the extra key they keep "hidden" and would find him and come pretty close to killing him, so it's not even a little bit worth it.

The next person that comes up to him isn't a buyer, but another one of Stiles' street friends. Isaac Lahey is probably Stiles' favorite person after Scott, mostly because he's super nice, sarcastic, and absolutely adorable. Stiles thought he was kind of creepy when they first met just under a year ago, but that was just because of his crazy curly hair, wide, curious eyes, and his knack for communicating in sounds and touches instead of actual words. Isaac himself is very shy and quiet when it comes down to it, so it's hard for him to do what he does out on the streets. Somehow he manages it, though half of it is probably how damn attractive he is. He's known as the soft one on the streets, and people tend to go to him when they need someone who's going to be gentle, and sometimes even just somebody to listen to them afterwards. He's good at making people feel better about themselves, which is hilarious because Stiles knows he really doesn't _care_ about that. Just like Stiles is good at pretending that he's sexy, Isaac is good at pretending that he cares.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, opening an arm for him. Everyone gives him pet names since he's so quiet, but he's actually the oldest of Stiles' friends that are even out here, at twenty-four. Granted, he has a grand total of _three_ friends that do what he does on the streets, but that's okay. Erica is turning twenty-three in two months, and Heather is turning twenty-_four_ in two months.

Isaac smiles at him, leaning against Stiles so that they can wrap their arms around each other. "Deucalion again?"

Stiles nods, pushing one of his hands into his curly hair. "You got another scrape on your forehead that you're trying to hide. Did Kali find you again?"

He bats Stiles' hand away, looking up at the sky. The moon is almost full, but they can still see the stars. "No, it was Ennis."

Stiles pushes his hair back into his face again. "Your face is too pretty to bleed," he says, pushing up to press a kiss to his cheek. Isaac is tall. "Where are you staying tonight?"

He shrugs. "Erica's been staying with Boyd lately, so her mattress is open in the loft above the strip club." (Boyd is the both Erica's boyfriend and the bouncer at the strip club, and even though he's just a few months older than Stiles he's pretty damn big. Stiles isn't really sure how anyone who works on the streets can be in a committed relationship without the other becoming too "jealous" or disgusted to work through it, but they've been together for about four months now. Before Erica moved in with him she stayed in the loft up above the strip club, which is where a lot of people sleep. The owner of the club—who Stiles has ever actually met before—lets a lot of anyone sleep up in their loft as long as they personally know at least one of the strip club girls, and being that Stiles knows four of them, he's introduced his three street friends to them as well, giving them a place to stay when they don't have anywhere else. Stiles is the only one that actually has a mostly permanent spot, so he does what he can to help out the other three.)

So at that, Stiles shakes his head, dropping his hand from his hair to wrap around his waist. "You can stay over with Peter and I tonight. You know he's always cold."

Isaac snorts a little. "I am not sleeping next to Peter again. His feet are _freezing_."

Stiles rolls his eyes, pushing him away. "Fine, you can sleep next to me on my insanely tiny bed. For now, though, go get some business. You need it."

Isaac smiles, backing away from him while still facing him. "Meet me back here, alright? The usual time."

Stiles nods and gives him a mock salute. "Tell Erica I said that she's been the worst Catwoman lately."

He snorts, turning around. "Sure thing."

Stiles is alone again after that, winking and leaning into car windows and all around doing what he pretends to do best. He only gets one more that night, which is not as acceptable as he would have liked on a Friday night. It's a new girl, too, so he has to learn about her instead of already knowing like he does with his regulars.

He buzzes his lips as he walks into his apartment, hanging up his keys on the hook just inside of the door. "Peeeeterrrr!" he yells through the rooms at three in the morning, his other hand weaved through Isaac's fingers.

A groan comes from Peter's bedroom, and a few seconds later his door opens. "Whaaat?" he whines, leaning against the doorframe. "I was asleeeep."

Stiles grins. "Isaac is staying over tonight."

His eyes light up. "You mean I get warm legs again?"

Isaac groans. "I'm sleeping with Stiles tonight."

He deflates again. "Fine, then I'm going back to bed. Don't be too loud."

Stiles rolls his eyes, pulling Isaac off to his bedroom. They do not in fact do anything sexual besides the occasional kiss on the cheek goodnight, mostly for the fact that they're completely sick of any of that by the end of their nights. They're just exhausted and annoyed at everything and just go straight to bed after pissing Peter off. Stiles is honestly surprised that he's even home. Usually he ends up at some random girls house on Friday nights and doesn't get back until six or seven in the morning. Actually…

He pushes Isaac into his room before going back to Peter's, pushing it open. "No date tonight?"

"Almost," he mutters from where he's already back in bed. "Her friends made her blow me off at the last second and I was too tired to try and be charming all over again to someone else. It's not easy with this face, you know."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "You're literally that dick that will spoon a girl just to get into her pants."

"What can I say? I like the ladies."

Stiles rolls his eyes and shuts the door again before going back to Isaac, stripping to nothing before crawling in. He's way too tired to change into pajamas, but Isaac is putting on a pair of Stiles' sweatpants. He gives Stiles' forehead a simple kiss goodnight before they throw the blankets over them, and Stiles—as usual—sinks into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

[Chapter summary: In which Stiles spends a night in the club and gets to tell Deucalion's attractive neighbor off.]

**Chapter 2**

_October 19, Saturday (10:07 AM)…_

Stiles hates weekends. It's two entire days of nothing to look forward to _Monday_ when he's got college classes again. Both of his classes are Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes, and after them he usually goes straight home to change into his "street clothes", eats something, does a bit of homework, and then heads out for his usual nights when it gets to a good time. He has all afternoon classes so he has plenty of time to get out there and also enough time to sleep since he usually ends up home at about one or two in the morning on weekdays, and weekends it can range from three to five in the morning.

So, at ten in the morning (he woke up at about eight; he can't even remember the last time he slept in; Isaac, though, is still asleep, and Peter is long gone to the college to grade papers), he's working on homework for those classes. He started working the moment he woke up, so he's almost done with everything, which is a _great_ feeling because he'll be able to spend Sunday cleaning things up and running errands for him and Peter. They pool a lot of their money together sometimes, and this week Peter said it was okay if they shared groceries, and he'll also be bringing him to the gym that he goes to at the college. Stiles will have to get up a little earlier than usual, but that's alright.

It's about then, just a few sentences away from a take-home test, that his cell phone starts to buzz. He got the phone when college started since the apartment doesn't have a landline. It's the chorus of Flo Rida's "Low", which Stiles chose as the ringtone for the strip club.

He grins as he snatches the dinky little flip phone up, wondering what he ever did to deserve a life so shitty that he's actually _excited_ when he's called in to work a pole or cage or whatever for the night.

"Hello?"

"Stiles?"

Stiles grins deeper at the voice of Lydia "Banshee" Martin. Stiles knew her back in high school and had a huge crush on her, but they lost touch (not that they had much of it in the first place) when she started skipping grades. She's _brilliant_. Stiles was just going into high school when she was starting her second year of college, so she's _long_ graduated with her math things. But, as smart as she is and even though she can literally get into any field that she wants, she actually _chooses_ to work at the strip club (which is why people call her Banshee, AKA the stripper name she got because of how loud the men _and_ women always cheer for her). It's a little weird, but only because she's related to the people that own the place (he knows that, but he doesn't know who exactly they are). Some of the others who work at the club are a little bitter about it, since most of them are there because it's one of the only jobs with such flexible hours, because they don't know how else to survive anyway, or they just don't have the experience to survive how they want to—but Lydia is just there because she _can_ be.

Besides Lydia, the three others that he knows personally are Danielle "Velvet Silk" Davis (Heather's best friend), and a lesbian couple, Emily "Butterfly" Sikes (who's actually a virgin, which is uncommon in such a profession) and Caitlin "Raven" Wasloe, They call Danielle "Velvet Silk" mostly because those are the materials she dresses in, but also because her hair feels like velvet and her skin like silk. Emily is "Butterfly" because her costumes always include butterfly wings and her left arm has a tattoo sleeve of butterflies (she likes butterflies okay). And Caitlin is "Raven" because what strip club is complete without a girl with tail feathers? Their stripper names are pretty simple, because "Thrusting Thunder God" or "Daisy Dukey" is so not something anyone wants to be branded as.

When Stiles, Isaac, Erica, and Heather can make it down… Well, it makes him sigh whenever he thinks about it, but his own name is "Kitten", because no club is complete without one of those, either. Yes, his outfit consists of cat ears, claws, whiskers, a tail, and sometimes he even puts in these special fangs that actually look hot instead of making him look like he's wearing Dracula's dentures. Erica is known as "The Temptation" because she's always in the skimpiest, most tempting outfits, Heather is (appropriately) the classic "Bunny", and then Isaac is known as the "Ocean Sunset" because he's always in some sort of marine-looking thing but also in gorgeous combinations of orange, purple, and other sunset colors. Stiles isn't sure why they gave some of the most classic and/or sexiest things to four people who are barely ever working at the club at all, but he's not complaining. Mostly.

"Hey!" Stiles says brightly. "What's up?"

"We're all about to start workouts."

"Come join us!" Caitlin yells in the background.

"And bring your kids!" Emily yells afterwards.

Stiles grins. The happy couple likes to call Erica, Isaac, and Heather his kids; Isaac and Heather make sense since he was here before them and taught them a few things, but Erica is more that grumpy teenager that thinks _she's_ the mom (which is appropriate since she was there before any of the other three, but Caitlin and Emily don't really like her, so they don't acknowledge that).

"Yeah, I'll be there within half an hour! Isaac is still asleep, Erica is somewhere else, and Heather is—"

"Here!" her voice yells in the background. "Danielle called me!"

Stiles smiles. "Heather is there. Isaac and I will see you soon, but who knows when Erica will actually check her phone for any of my text messages. Go ahead and start without us."

"We were going to," Lydia says. "Also, your workout shorts are still here. We washed them for you."

"Oh, thanks! Well see you guys soon."

"Mmhmm, bye."

More "goodbyes" echo through a Stiles hangs up, quick shoving all of his things onto one side of the couch before swinging up to go wake Isaac.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, hopping onto the bed.

Isaac groans, rolling over. "I don't _want_ to do any workouts."

"Come on, man, you _know_ you'd rather be at the club tonight than out on the town."

Isaac sighs, rolling back over. "Fine."

It doesn't take long to get to the club, both of them riding Isaac's bicycle. They've done it tons of times before, so it's easy for Isaac to pedal with Stiles sitting on the handlebars or standing on the little bars sticking out of both sides of the back wheel.

Stiles grins as he kicks open the door at the left of the bottom of the stairs that leads into the club's underground gym (the door to the right is the locker rooms and mirrors where everybody gets ready), and as he's walking over the threshold into it, he lives up to himself and trips over his own feet to fall flat on his face.

Everyone laughs at him, but Isaac helps him up a few seconds later.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Stiles mutters as he brushes off the dirt on his jeans. "I'm a klutz, I get it."

"A great first impression, I think," Heather chirps.

Stiles frowns at her. "First impression?"

Danielle points to one of the workout poles to where a woman Stiles has never seen is leaning against one, staring at him with an un-amused expression. She has long, dark brown hair and matching eyes, and she's dressed in a tank-top and the "booty shorts" that most of the "girls" wear when working out.

He grins again. "Hi!" he says brightly, not caring to turn on any charm since she already knows he's a dork. "I'm Stiles." He points to where Isaac is now sitting between Caitlin and Emily. "That's Isaac. I don't know where Erica is, but us three and Heather are the street kids." He leans against the nearest wall. "You have a _seriously_ familiar jaw line. What's your name?"

She raises a single eyebrow, thumbs hooked just into the top of her tight, cotton workout shorts. Stiles knows the answer before she even says it: "Cora."

He can't help the way his eyes widen a little. "You're Derek's sister!"

She frowns. "Why do _you_ know Derek?"

"I don't, I just saw him. One of my regulars lives on the same floor."

She looks a little green at that. "_Deucalion_?"

Stiles shrugs. "He pays well."

"That's disgusting," she says, shaking her head.

Stiles smirks a little. "I can tell we're going to have some issues."

"Anyway!" Lydia says in an exasperated tone, waving a hand to shut them up. "Cora's our She Wolf, so we'll be playing a little more Shakira. Now, are we going to keep moving or what? We don't have all day." Lydia is basically the one "in command" since she _is_ related to the owners, and everyone accepts it since she's one of the best here.

Stiles loves working out with the strip club girls. There's always great music playing, everyone is constantly cracking jokes about somebody's ass, and Stiles _always_ learns something new about a position or the like. Erica eventually shows up, already dressed in her workout clothes (Stiles just quick changed in the corner since he and his friends have _zero_ privacy issues), and it's instantly obvious that she's not going to get along with the new girl either. She doesn't really get along with any females at all, so that's one reason why Stiles is glad he's a guy.

Cora is…dark. She's a great dancer, but her expression never changes and she speaks in a lot of monotones. It makes Stiles angry that he can't tell anything about her inner personality even when he's taking/taken all these psychology classes. She only speaks when spoken to, and even then it's only a couple of words or an entire sentence that's so cryptic that it doesn't even make sense.

Stiles is practically drowning in his own sweat when Lydia waves all of them to the showers so they don't all smell like…well, like they've been working out.

"I've swear you've grown an inch since I last saw you," Caitlin says as Stiles is dropping his shorts to get into the shower stalls. There are five of them, so it's a good thing that nobody has any privacy issues so that three can all cram into one at the same time. Sometimes Stiles ends up washing himself with some of the guys that he doesn't know, but it doesn't bother anyone.

Stiles grins as she and Emily step into the same one with him. "Are you talking about my height or my dick?"

She rolls her eyes. "Let's just say that I'm talking about both."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

When Stiles gets out of the shower and gets dressed and finally gets on up to the main floor to help out with the people who are making sure that everything is being set up, he sees and sort of hears a very fed-up argument at the main entrance. It's starting to gather a bit more attention and he doesn't want to upset Lydia, so he quick flits over to where Boyd is currently arguing with none other than the Derek that Stiles and Deucalion ran into.

"Boyd, hey," Stiles says, stepping up beside him on the stairs just outside. "What's up?"

Derek's eyes widen for a split second before they narrow at Stiles', but Boyd answers before they can say anything to each other:

"This asshole is trying to get in before we're even open," he says, motioning towards Derek. "Claims he's related to one of the dancers."

"He is," Stiles says. "Cora is his younger sister."

Boyd gives an aggravated sigh. "I don't care _who_ he's related to, he can't come in until we're open. Those are the rules."

Stiles smirks at him the tiniest bit. "Boyd, I can't even count on both my hands the amount of times you stole keys for me so I could go ice skating or pick pocketed a gun from a pacing _police officer_. You really can't let the guy in this one time when he's telling the truth?"

Boyd rolls his eyes. "What're you gonna give me?"

Stiles chuckles. "I'd have suggestions if you weren't currently dating Erica, but you're going to have to think of something."

Boyd snorts, taking a step to the side. "I'll think of something."

"I know you will." Stiles turns up to Derek and smiles. "You can come in if you stick close to me. They'll kick you out otherwise."

Derek does not look happy about that, either, but he nods stiffly and follows Stiles down the stairs.

"Is this what Deucalion meant about her 'new pole'?" Stiles asks once they're out of Boyd's hearing, putting up air quotes.

Derek glares a little. "That's none of your business."

Stiles hums, looking away. "I don't know what you're here for, but whatever it is, don't be hard on her for this. She's got it good compared to some of us."

Derek's glare softens to a frown, but he says nothing.

Stiles can't help but stare at him as he walks, doing everything he can not to trip—so, of course, he runs into one of the chairs instead. "Dammit," he mutters, pushing it in all the way.

Derek is giving him a confused look.

"Don't look at me like that," he says, leading him to the top of the stairs. "Just because I'm good at what I do doesn't mean I'm good at everything. Now stay here while I get Cora." He takes the stairs by threes before veering off into the locker rooms, searching for Cora. He finds her getting dressed in the corner closest to the stairs, so he swings over to her with a smile.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but somehow her eyes and the rest of her expression are still so…dull. "Hi."

"Cora, right?"

"What do you want?"

"Geez, you're worse than your brother. He's waiting at the top of the stairs for you."

Her other eyebrow rises, and she nods before quick throwing on a bathrobe and moving past him towards the stairs.

Stiles is really tempted to go eavesdrop, but he'd probably get punched for it by both of them, so instead he moves around until he finds Lydia doing her make-up. "Where'd you find _her_?" he asks.

"Hmm?" she says while doing stuff around her eyes. "Cora?"

"Yeah, her."

"She came here on her own, asking for a job."

"Two months ago?"

"No, just one month. She's been here for two weeks, but she's had days off whenever you're here."

"How often is she here?"

"Usually every night, but she's taking some college classes online, so I gave her some nights off to work on homework. I know we're a big place, but there are also a lot of us here, so I figured I'd help her graduate if she ever needs it. Lord knows I could help her with anything."

Stiles smiles. Lydia tends to come off as a coldhearted bitch to most people, but she's really a big ole sweetheart. "Has her brother ever come here looking for her?"

"He was here back on her first day; it was pretty funny the way he looked straight into his lap whenever she walked near him in her fancy furs and things. He's not happy about her being here. He told me so. I told him to suck a dick."

And _that's_ why people think she's a coldhearted bitch, but Stiles smiles anyway. "Think he'd suck mine?"

Lydia actually looks away from the mirror to stare at him with a dropped jaw. "You do _not_ like him! He's such a _stone_, Stiles. He's far too gorgeous, like those guys that come to the girls on the streets to do the weird things because their _own_ relationships don't want to try it. And besides, I doubt he's going to go for someone that's in an even 'worse' profession than the one he can't stand his sister being in."

Her words hurt the tiniest bit, but he just shrugs at her. "Worst case it goes to hell. In the meantime, though, I really could use a blowjob." He flits off from her rolling eyes with a grin, heading back towards the stairs.

Conveniently, as he's about to run up the stairs, Cora comes down them. She's glaring intently, but that's her usual look, so…

"You okay?" Stiles asks.

She shoots daggers at his face with her eyes. "Don't let Derek in here anymore," she grinds out. "Tell Boyd that he's not allowed in at all."

Stiles swallows tightly, nods, and quick runs up the stairs. Derek isn't up there anymore, but he moves fast enough to see him stalking back toward the exit, hands shoved hard into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Stiles pulls in a deep breath to pull some charm in through the air before calling the man's name.

Derek turns around with a dark look on his face, but it just looks exasperated when he sees that it's Stiles.

Alright, two can play at that game. He turns off the charm and just turns on the middle-aged dad. "Obviously you don't like me because of what I do, and that's a seriously dick move. I told you not to go hard on her, and you did anyway. Know what that means? You're not allowed to come back here when she's here for the night."

Derek starts to open his mouth to say something or another, but Stiles continues before he can:

"I don't know if that was your intention, but good job. I don't know what your problem is, but whatever her reason for coming here is, you obviously don't know the whole story. I wouldn't tell you either if you were my brother. The point, though, is that you're not just being a dick to her when you come in here, you're hurting _all_ of us. Maybe _you_ can figure out how to get yourself through life without working a shit-end job like we do just so we can fucking eat, but the rest of us aren't as privileged. You're hot, and I would totally bang you, but it's not even a fun idea if you're going to come in here treating all of us like shit."

Derek actually looks a little taken aback. "I didn't kn—"

"No, you didn't know—but now you do, and that means that you get to be a good big brother and stop coming in here." He points towards the door. "Keep walking, asshole."

Derek stays standing there for a couple seconds longer, face taken aback and eyes maybe the tiniest bit apologetic, but then he turns around and keeps walking without so much of a nod or anything, hands still in his pockets. Stiles shares a quick look with Boyd to carry out Cora's wishes. Yeah, Derek's hot, and yeah, he would _totally_ bang him, but Lydia's right in the fact that he doesn't have the time and Derek would never bang him anyway. So, since that's never going to happen, he may as well get on _Cora's_ good side. He's always in need of a new friend, and it looks like she could use some too. Maybe he'll even play a little matchmaker and see how she gets along with Isaac…

Stiles actually laughs aloud at that idea.


	3. Chapter 3

[Chapter summary: In which Stiles spends a few nights across the hall with Deucalion's attractive neighbors, finds out that his roommate is related to those attractive neighbors, and does some bonding over board games.]

**Chapter 3**

_4 Days Later  
October 23, Wednesday (2:48 AM)…_

Stiles whistles to himself as he walks out of Deucalion's condo on the fifth floor, excited to get back home so he can sleep. He had three people tonight, which is pretty weird for a Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Usually he only gets about one or two on week nights, but one guy just wanted a blowjob in the nearest alley and it was pretty easy.

He knows the club closes at two on week nights (about three to four on weekends, depending on the business they're getting), so Cora is probably long passed these elevators and—His thoughts cut off when the elevator dings and, low and behold, Cora is standing in them.

Stiles grins. "Hey."

She looks shocked for a split second, and Stiles is ready for her rock-like expression to come on, but instead it's a tired, broken look as she gives Stiles a similar smile. "Hey," she says, slouching out of the elevator. "I, uh… Thanks."

Stiles frowns. "For telling Boyd not to let Derek in?"

"Well, that too, but I meant more along the lines of telling Derek off for me."

Stiles gives a warm smile. "Yeah, totally. Gotta stick together, right?"

She nods, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. "You, uh… How often are you at the club?"

Stiles shrugs. "Saturday's."

"I think Lydia should give you a full-time job. You're good."

Stiles' eyes widen. Is she…complimenting him? Stiles didn't even know she could smile, let alone tell someone they work a pole pretty great. "I guess I could, but guys don't make as much money as you girls do. That's why I do streets and only the occasional night there."

She frowns a little. "Oh. Shame. What are you doing up—oh, Deucalion, right." She wrinkles her nose up. "Does he really pay well enough?"

Stiles chuckles a little. "I know him from a different perspective than you guys. He's not so bad to me."

"You know him from the _wrong_ perspective, then. He's the type of guy who will send guns and knives at you when you don't listen to him, Stiles."

"I better let him stay as my regular, then, or else he could get angry."

"No, I mean…" She sighs. "Has he tried to drag you into his pack yet?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't seem too perturbed at my refusal."

"No, he is, he's just not showing it. Watch your back around his pack, okay?"

"You actually know them?"

She nods. "The twins have been trying to get out of it for a few years now," she says, voice now a whisper. "Derek and I used to live here and we knew them within the first months that they joined him. We moved a couple states away, in Washington, but I got him to move back here. I didn't tell him it was so that I could get in touch with the twins again."

Stiles frowns. "When did you guys move?"

"We moved away from here when Derek was eighteen; I wasn't old enough, but I snuck after him in the back of his car. We just moved back here—_accidentally_ right next to Deucalion and his fucking _pack_—two months ago."

Stiles gives the tiniest of smiles. It is rather comical. "How old were you?"

"He's nine years older than me, so I was just eleven."

Stiles snorts. "Some stowaway."

She nods. "His thirty-first birthday was two weeks ago, on my first day of work at the club." She breathes a very sorry sounding laugh. "He spent his birthday in a strip club to make sure that I was going to be treated okay."

Stiles smiles. "Tell him to rest easy, yeah? We're all in this together."

She nods, pressing her lips into a soft line. Stiles is glad she didn't notice his blatant High School Musical reference. Cora has yet to find out that they only watch Zac Effron movies whenever any of the girls get together for a sleepover (which is only when nobody is dead exhausted, so not often). "Definitely. Are you, uh… Do you have a place to go?"

Stiles nods. "I've got an apartment with a roommate."

"Oh, cool. Are you just gonna…go to bed?"

"I was going to eat something first, but after that, probably."

She nods. "How far away is it?"

"Not too far."

"How far?"

He purses his lips. "Maybe…four or five miles?"

Her eyes widen. "You're going to walk that far?"

He nods. "Sometimes Isaac gives me a ride on his bike, but I'm not really sure where he is tonig—okay, wow, um, you actually look really worried. It's okay, you know. I've done it before."

She shakes her head. "Doesn't anybody jump you?"

"Once, but I outran him. I know how to take care of myself, Cora. I've been doing this whole sex on the streets since the summer before my senior year of high school."

She looks like she's about to give up, but instead she drops to the ground and swings a leg around at a speed that Stiles has never seen before. His legs fly up and he crashes to the floor on his back, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Cora moves to stand over his stomach with a smug little look on her face.

"You can stay over tonight, if you want," she says. "We gotta stick together, remember?"

Stiles gives her a huge grin. He's about to take her up on the offer, but the door to 5B (Deucalion's condo is 5A) swings open and Derek practically leaps into the hallway. He's in nothing but a pair of very classic black and red checkered pajama pants (holy shit, that is one defined V), his eyes are wide and almost crazed, and even though his hair is pretty short it's sticking up in so many directions that it looks like he stuck his finger into an electrical socket.

Cora smiles at him. "Oh good, you're up. Stiles can't protect himself worth shit. He's stay over tonight."

Derek's wide-eyed "what the hell was that noise did somebody die oh god" look shakes itself away so he can glare a little. "_Stiles_?" he says, voice deep and growly from sleep. "What the hell is he—" But he cuts off, glancing at Deucalion's door. "No."

Cora rolls her eyes, holding out a hand for Stiles. "Yes."

Stiles takes her hand tentatively, letting her help him up.

"_No_."

"_Yes_, Derek. I'm not going to let him walk home at this hour."

"He _lives_ on the streets at these hours!"

"It's actually a little late for a weeknight," Stiles says, not really giving a shit if Derek tries to rip his head off. He's confident that Cora will protect him. Damn, relying on the protection of someone smaller than him… In his defense, though, anyone related to Derek and those very gorgeous arms could probably whip Stiles' ass with their eyes closed. "I'm usually home by about two-thirty."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Just…fuck, I don't care. He gets the couch. I'm going back to bed." He disappears inside.

Cora grins a little. "Wanna make him hate you even more?" she whispers to him.

Stiles has never seen Cora look like the way she does right now: excited. "_Oh_ yeah."

"Then you're sleeping next to me toni—oh my, fuck, I didn't know eyes could widen like that. You sleep with people all the time, I think you can cuddle with me for a few hours."

Stiles ends up laughing a little harder than intended, but it all works out just fine. Cora's room is a _mess_, so he make sure that his clothes don't get lost in it. He's thankful that he wore briefs under his jeans tonight (it's getting a little bit colder out, now), or else he'd have to get Cora to sneak into Derek's room and snag him a pair of his underwear or something so they could sleep next to each other without making it _really_ look like they banged.

"Holy shit, you're warm," Stiles whispers as he's tucking himself in on the inside of Cora's bed.

Cora chuckles, pressing back against him more. She's in a DC superhero t-shirt and striped boxers that actually used to be Derek's before he grew out of them, so if it weren't for the boobs hiding under the t-shirt and longer hair she'd almost be more manlier than Stiles. His legs are shaved and he's wearing briefs, for fucks sake.

"Do you move a lot?" he asks. "I'm asking because I do."

"No, but I used to share a bed with Derek, and he does, so it's fine." She sits up. "But you should trade me sides so you don't push me off the bed."

Stiles laughs before they resituate themselves, now facing the wall beside the bed instead of the rest of the room.

"You can just leave whenever you want tomorrow," Cora says as they start to drift off to sleep. "Leave a note or something, though."

"Do you have a phone?"

"I lost it on the trip down here and I haven't gotten around to getting my upgrade, so as of now, no."

He nods. "A note, then."

"Right. Goodnight, Stiles."

"G'night, Cora. Thanks."

"Yeah, you're welcome, go to bed."

**XxX**

_October 24, Thursday (8:21 AM)…_

When Stiles stumbles out of Cora's room with all of his clothes bundled into his hands the next morning, Cora is still asleep on the bed and Derek is bustling in the kitchen. Stiles tiptoes into the hallway bathroom so he can put his clothes on and wash his face, and when he comes back out, Derek is still in the kitchen, but now he's glaring over his shoulder.

Stiles rolls his eyes, looking around for a piece of paper. He didn't notice last night, but most of their things are still in boxes sitting around the place… "We didn't have sex, if that makes you feel any better."

"I know you didn't," Derek says, voice dark. "You're not Cora's type."

Stiles grins, remembering his sort of plan to get her and Isaac together. "What is her type?"

"Curls."

Stiles gives a very big grin. "I know the perfect guy. Anyway, whatchyuh makin'?"

"Nothing for you."

"I lied, you're way worse than Cora. Have you ever smiled in your life?"

"I smiled once, back when I was fifteen."

Stiles can't tell if that's a joke or not, so he just grabs up a piece of paper sitting by a printer and a pen on the desk beside it. "You guys are PC people, then?"

Derek shrugs. "It was cheap."

He nods, writing out his note:

_Yo, your brother needs to learn to smile. —Kitten  
_  
"I'm an Apple guy."

"Have you ever actually owned a computer?"

"No, but the college has some."

Derek turns around to frown. "You go to the college?"

Stiles nods, folding the note up so he can go shove it under Cora's door. "This is my sophomore year," he says as he comes back.

Derek frowns deeper. "I didn't know you were—"

"More than just a whore? Yeah, a lot of us are. Do you really want me to give you another lecture or have you had your fill of those?"

Derek rolls his eyes and turns away again. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You totally meant it like that."

"Maybe a little."

"Exactly."

Derek sighs, turning around once more. "Can I ask you something?"

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, shoot."

"Why do you do this to yourself? What makes you want to live this kind of life?"

Stiles manages to keep his mouth shut for a grand total of four seconds before bursting into the chorus of Cage the Elephant's "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked".

When Derek just glares a bit, Stiles stops singing and sighs. "I don't _want_ to live this kind of life," he mutters. "I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, and there really _isn't_ anything in this world that's going to help me survive that's free." He shrugs. "There aren't any single jobs that pay enough for me to get myself through college, so here I am with the nightlife from hell. Some times I'm on the streets and sometimes I'm in the club."

"Why don't you just get a full-time job at the club?"

"Because they don't pay enough."

"You couldn't just do that on the side and then get a different job at a grocery store or something?"

"The hours aren't as flexible."

"So you became a prostitute?"

He shrugs. "Prostitute schmostitute." He spins around and heads towards the door. "See you round, sour-face!"

**XxX**

_2 Days Later  
October 26, Saturday (3:56 AM)…_

Stiles is not at all surprised to run into Cora when he walks out of 5A on the next night, but he is a bit confused as to why Derek is with her.

"Stiles, it's four in the morning again," Cora says, shoving at his shoulder. "Quit it."

"Isaac said he would wait for me tonight!"

At that, Stiles' eyes widen when he sees Isaac step out from a corner in the elevator behind Derek and Cora. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Waiting for you," he says. "It's cold outside."

"You've just been sitting in the elevator?"

He nods.

Stiles chuckles, throwing an arm around the curly-haired man's shoulders. "I love you."

Isaac grins and wraps an arm around Stiles' waist, steering him into the elevator. "I know. But I want warm legs tonight, so…don't wake him up, okay? His cold feet are the worst."

Derek and Cora both give raises eyebrows. "Cold feet?" Derek asks.

"Not marriage," Stiles clarifies as Isaac holds an arm out to keep the elevator doors open. "Literal cold feet. Sometimes Isaac sleeps next to my roommate so he can press them against his legs and warm up. The problem with that, though, is that Isaac starts getting cold, so he's just been sleeping next to me."

Derek frowns down at Cora before looking back at them. "Are all of you this, uh…"

"Close?" Isaac finishes. "Yes."

"It lets us know that we're not alone," Stiles adds. "It's nice."

He shrugs. "Whatever you say." He starts walking towards 5B.

Cora sighs. "Just ignore him. He's not really understanding the whole thing yet."

"Why is he with you, anyway?" Stiles asks. "It _is_ almost four in the morning."

"He picked me up," Cora says. "I told Boyd that he's allowed to come in again, so he just came in towards the end."

"He's not going to be a regular, is he?" Isaac asks. "I've had some intimidating people and I still don't think I could handle him staring at me."

Derek's head whips around at that. "You're not my type."

Stiles grins. "And what _is_ your type, Mr. Works-Out Too Much?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "As if I'd tell you." He disappears into the condo.

Stiles chuckles, looking back at Cora. "Do _you_ know his type?"

She shrugs. "He's been all over the place, but there have only been three official relationships. Once in high school there was this adorably nice little blonde girl that played an instrument, later he dated some blonde bitch that just used him to get back at our uncle for something that had been done back in his high school years, and his most recent was a brunette teacher that ended up being one of those creepy people you have to break up with five times before they actually get it through their heads."

Stiles blinks a lot. "Wow. Poor guy."

"I know, he's got horrible taste. I keep trying to look for someone else for him, but I really don't know that many people that he would even want to talk to—especially now that I'm working at Lydia's club."

"It's not Lydia's, she's just related to the people who do own it."

Isaac frowns. "Really? I thought her mom owned it."

"No, she owns that casino a city over, remember? And her dad owns the hotel part of it. I think the ones who own the club are an aunt and uncle or something."

Cora flits a wrist. "It doesn't matter, we just know that Lydia's family is rich off their asses. Are you guys just going back to Stiles' place?"

He and Isaac nod.

"Who's your roommate?"

"Oh, his name's Peter," Stiles says. "Older dude."

Both of Cora's eyes widen. "Peter who?"

"Um…Peter Hale. Why, do you know him?"

She bursts into laughter, which is instantly followed by Derek poking his head out. "What's happening?" he asks. "You're laughing. That's not right."

She turns back to glare at him around her giggles. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Not since this morning. What's so funny?"

"They just told me who their roommate is!"

He frowns, stepping out all the way in nothing but a pair of sweats. Stiles tries really hard not to swoon, but it doesn't help when Isaac coughs a little bit and bends down to burry his head into the crook of Stiles' neck whispering "holy shit" over and over again. Seriously, this guys attractive-level has got to be illegal.

"Who is it?" he asks.

"Uncle Peter!"

His eyes widen, Stiles' jaw drops, and Isaac's head snaps out from Stiles' neck. Stiles and Derek both speak at once:

"Their roommate is our _uncle_?"

"Your uncle is our _roommate_?"

Cora nods, looking back at Stiles. "We're Cora and Derek Hale. Peter is our mom's little brother. Brown hair and nasty burns on his face, right?"

Stiles and Isaac both nod.

Cora chuckles. "He got those from a fire that Kate set on him. She was a bitch, like I said."

Derek's eyes narrow. "You told them about—"

"Oh shush, now they can help me find somebody for you that isn't going to end up being wrong for you."

"It's not going to be easy," Isaac whispers.

"I heard that," Derek mutters.

"Well it's true," Stiles says. "You're the deepest stick in the mud I've ever met."

"I'm not a stick in the mud around people I _know_."

Cora snorts. "Yes you are."

"How so?"

"Your idea of a good time is sitting at home and watching behind the scenes work of old eighties movies."

"I was sick that night! I didn't want to go out and get drunk off my ass when I'd throw up after a single swallow."

Cora flits a wrist. "Excuses." She turns back to Stiles and Isaac. "You're just riding a bike, right? You should just stay here tonight."

Isaac frowns. "Is my bike going to be safe when it's chained up right outside?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine."

Derek huffs. "Do they really have to stay? Stiles is annoying enough on his own."

Isaac grins down at him. "I told you."

Stiles sticks his tongue out.

Cora hums. "They are kind of annoying, but yeah, I don't want them going home. We can pull the couch bed out."

Stiles grins. "Couch bed?"

She nods, motioning for them to follow her passed a glaring Derek and into the condo. "And what are you two doing tomorrow—er, tonight? Whatever, it's not tomorrow until we go to bed. Lydia was talking about bringing you two in tomorrow, and also on Halloween night. There's going to be—"

"Games and stuff, I know," Stiles says. "I was there last year. I'll tell her that we're coming tomorrow." He grins up at Isaac. "It'll be fun."

Isaac shrugs.

"Fun for a stripper, yes," Cora says. "Lydia also says she's giving us all a bit of money to go get some more extensive costume for our names."

"She did that last year, too," Stiles says. "I can just use everything from last year and use the money she's giving me if you guys need extra. If not, I could always use it for some more food."

Cora sighs a little as Derek is moving to take the couch apart. "You're doing okay, though, right?"

Stiles shrugs. "Okay enough. It's just nice having more than I'm used to."

"Which isn't often," Isaac says, their arms still around each other.

"Hey, Derek," Stiles says to him. "I have a question for you, too."

Derek frowns up at him, and Stiles is pretty sure the whole conversation they had about why Stiles is a prostitute in the first place is going through his head. "Where do _you_ work?"

"Guess."

He raises an eyebrow. "You work at a grocery store, don't you?"

He nods, grabbing up a pile of blankets and two pillows to toss them on the bed. "All yours." He moves towards his room.

"You're going to bed alright?" Cora asks. "You don't have work tomorrow."

"Cora, it's four in the morning. I'm _tired_."

"You got like, six hours of sleep before coming to get me."

"Which wasn't enough."

"I say we throw a really mini party," Stiles says, winking over at Cora. "Do you guys have any board games?"

"I am _not_ playing a board game," Derek says, staring to walk away again.

"I'll tell Boyd you're not allowed in anymore!" Cora calls after him.

He huffs just out of sight. "Fine."

"I say we play strip poker," Isaac says with a completely straight face.

Stiles grins up at him. "He _is_ a god, isn't he?"

"Derek, they're talking about you!" Cora yells.

Stiles and Isaac jumps at her to shush her up, but Derek is already poking his head out with a glare. "I am not playing strip poker with my _sister_."

Stiles grins. "After Cora goes to bed?"

Cora smacks the back of his head. "Quit it and set the blankets up on your bed. We'll play it on there."

They've eventually got four game boxes stacked up, trying to decide between them: Candy Land, Blokus, Sorry!, and a card game called Dirty Minds.

"It's two against two," Stiles says to Derek and Cora, "and _you_ two want two different games, so it's like two against one and one. We win."

"But I don't _want_ Dirty Minds!" Cora grumbles. "Derek and I have played that so many times that we have all of them memorized!"

"Then you can be on my team and Derek can have Isaac."

Isaac slumps a little. "I don't want Derek, he doesn't smile."

"You don't smile very often, either."

"Exactly. It'll be too many frowns on one team."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fine, _I'll_ take Derek." He winks at the man before looking at Cora. "_Please_?"

She groans. "Alright, alright, we'll do teams—but Isaac and I are going first." She grabs up the box and pulls out a card. "Also, I don't want to use the black cards. Let's just ask questions and keep a tally of how many we get right or something."

Derek nods, leaning backwards and grabbing a blank piece of paper from the printer. Stiles looks around and finds a pen on the floor, handing it over to him. Derek nods and writes down their names, followed by Isaac and Cora's. He hasn't really said much at all since everyone settled down with the games. Stiles isn't sure where his defiant attitude ran off to.

"Alright," Cora says. "The first clue is: 'You can make me come in many colors.'

Stiles frowns. "Skittles?"

She shakes her head. "'The bigger I am, the more it hurts.'"

"I know it," Derek says, writing down a tally for them.

Stiles frowns. "What is it?"

"Keep trying."

Stiles huffs. "I don't know."

"'You have to be able to handle a lot of little pricks'," Cora reads.

"A prostitute."

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Stiles, the whole point of the game is to guess something that _isn't_ dirty."

"We're not dirty."

Derek leans over and sniffs his shoulder. "You're a little dirty."

Stiles gives an aggravated sigh. "I don't know."

"You might be proud to have me between your thighs."

"It starts with a T," Derek says.

Stiles sighs. "I still don't know."

"Last hint, then. 'Sometimes, you have to get poked for hours before I'm done.'"

He's about to give up again, but Derek taps his shoulder. When Stiles looks over at him, he sees that Derek is facing away, showing off the tattoo he's got at his upper back. Stiles never noticed it before, too busy just staring at his chest…

"Oh!" he says, tapping it. "Tattoo!"

"There you go," Cora says, setting the card down. "Here, keep that so we know if Derek is keeping the right score."

Stiles nods, setting it between them. "Thanks," he says. "I mean, for letting me try and guess."

He shrugs. "Yeah, welcome." He grabs up a card. "'After your panties are wet, you really need me.'"

"I'm wearing panties," Stiles says.

Cora shushes him before looking at Isaac. "I know this one already. Wanna guess?"

"Um…read the next two hints, first," he says.

Derek nods. "'If you've got too big a load, I might go down on you.' And, 'Sometimes, you have to pay to stick your dripping thing in me.'"

Isaac grins a little at Stiles. "I could guess prostitute, but I'm not going to." He looks at Derek. "Is it a dryer?"

Stiles frowns when Derek nods. "I suck at this game."

"That was only the first card, Stiles," Cora says, picking up another one. "Don't hurt yourself."

"No way, I haven't done that since eighth grade."

The three in the room (Stiles can call at least two of them, but he's pretty sure Derek and him aren't exactly friends yet) stare at him.

Stiles frowns. "What? Everybody had a cutting stage in middle school. It was like this really shitty trend. It was easy to blend in with everyone so they wouldn't ask you why your life is so shitty."

Isaac frowns back. "You didn't tell me about that."

"I don't have any scars, so it's not important. Read the next card, Cora."

She shrugs and does, but it doesn't escape Stiles' attention the sideways look that Derek is giving him. He refuses to look back, though… "'When I start to slow down, I get harder.'"

"That doesn't make any sense at all. Next."

"'Once I blow the crust off, I start to flow.'"

Stiles cringes. "Oh, yuck. Next.'"

"I shoot out of a steaming hole."

Stiles frowns over at Derek, still looking. "Do you know it?"

He nods. "Cora warned you. Keep guessing."

Stiles sighs. "Steam?"

Cora shakes her head. '"After an explosion, I ooze from your crater.'"

A light flicks on in Stiles' head. "Lava!"

Cora grins, handing him the card. "Correct."

Stiles swears that Derek is smiling when he puts another tally mark down, but he decides not to say anything about it.

The night goes on much like that, ending up with a tied game since Cora and Derek really do have every card memorized. They actually play one round of Candy Land even though it's only for two people (Stiles gets stuck at the Molasses Swamp for six turns, so he totally loses) before everybody heads off to bed, Isaac just stripping down to his boxers before crawling under the blankets. Cora and Derek, though, have bedrooms, and Stiles has to get up to pee.

When he steps out, Derek is leaning against the wall there, one knee crooked for his foot to rest against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest.

"You know, maybe you're not as deep a stick as I thought," Stiles says, staying in the doorway to force him to listen.

Derek raises an eyebrow. "You've decided that because I played a couple of board games?"

"No, I'm deciding that because you threw your Candy Land piece all the way across the room when you didn't get the color of block you wanted. It means that you're not as dark and emotionless as you look." He pokes his chest. "Speaking of which, what does your tattoo mean?"

Derek's eyes shift to the direction of his back, but obviously he can't see it. "It's a triskelion."

"A triska-what now?"

Stiles swears the guy smiles again, but it's gone before he can be sure. "A triskelion. It's a triple—or continuous—spiral." He turns around, showing it since he's still not wearing a shirt. Damn, Stiles should have looked at his back more often. He's got some serious muscles going back here, too… "It signifies different things for different people. Mother, father, and child or past, present, and future… Etcetera."

Stiles reaches forward, lighting pressing his finger at the end of one of the spirals. Derek spins around though, an unhappy look. "Sorry," he says, dropping his hand. "I was just gonna trace it. What does it mean for you?"

"It's the three phases of the moon: new, half, and full."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Why did you choose it for that reason?"

He shrugs. "I like the moon. If I ever stop liking it it's still easy to call it the past, present, and future, too, so it's not like I'll ever regret it."

Stiles nods. "How old were you when you got it?"

"Twenty-two."

Stiles grins. "Hey, that's how old I am!"

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Really? I'm—"

"Nearly ten years older than me, I know. Close enough for me, though." He winks and steps away from the bathroom. "Don't have too much fun in there." He turns away before Derek's face can react to anything, walking over to the couch bed and dropping into it to cuddle up beside Isaac.

"You are such a flirt," Isaac says, letting Stiles spoon against his back.

"Yeah, well, he's hot."

"Shame he's not much of a flirt back."

"I don't think he'd even be a flirt back to someone he _did_ like."

"What if he likes you, then?"

"Do you _know_ how many times he's glared at me?"

"He's glared at Cora, too."

Said female suddenly pops into the living room, hopping onto the end of the bed. "He can probably hear everything you're saying," she says. "You might want to whisper. But while you're talking about him…" She lowers her voice to the suggested volume: "Derek has been pansexual since he was fourteen."

Stiles and Isaac's eyes widen in the darkness of the room. "Really?" Stiles asks. "So he'd totally let me—"

"I have no idea, but I don't suggest you ask him."

"Would that even work?" Isaac asks, turning around in Stiles arms so he can see Cora better. "I mean…Stiles doesn't really seem like Derek's type."

"I don't even know if I _want_ to be his type," Stiles says. "It's hard enough keeping up my college life with this profession, trying to date Derek would be suicide."

"I don't know what his type is," Cora says, "so you could be, but you also might not be. He doesn't work tomorrow, so maybe I can make him come shopping with us. You can keep blatantly flirting with him."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I flirt with everyone. It's my job."

"Not with us," Isaac says, "and the way you flirt with Derek is different than with your buyers. With them you're trying to be sexy, but with Derek you're practically tripping over yourself."

Stiles frowns. "Are you guys saying that I might actually have a crush on the guy?"

They nod.

He huffs, burying deeper under the blankets. "Well that sucks."

"Why are you guys all whispering?" Derek asks, walking in. "What sucks?"

All three of Stiles, Isaac, and Cora speak at once:

Cora: "Vacuums!"

Isaac: "Black holes!"

Stiles: "MY MOUTH."

Derek blinks at all of them before walking away without a word.

Cora rolls her eyes at Stiles. "Go to bed, you two. I'm waking you up to go shopping tomorrow. Derek, you're coming with us!"

"No!" he growls.

"Too bad!"

He sighs. "You owe me."

"I know, so go to bed."

Stiles and Isaac get back into their spooning position once Cora is gone, breathing in sync. Stiles really does like sleeping next to people. It makes him feel safer… Even if they're just buyers, at least he's not by himself. He's had enough of that.


	4. Chapter 4

[Chapter summary: In which Stiles goes Halloween shopping with his new posse, does a last-minute show at the club, and Derek leaves notes.]

**Chapter 4**

_October 26, Saturday (9:47 AM)…_

Stiles gets woken up because a pile of clothes is dropped onto him and Isaac, still cuddled up on the couch-bed. "Where did these come from?" he asks, picking up one of his very own t-shirts.

"Peter dropped them off for you guys," Cora says.

Isaac groans a little, just now waking up at the voices. "Make it stooop."

Stiles smiles, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Get up, kiddo. You've got marine life to deck out in."

He opens his eyes in a glare. "I don't wanna."

Stiles shrugs. "Then stay here by yourself."

Isaac sighs, rolling over to flop across Stiles' lap. "Fine."

By the time that the three of them are ready, Derek is shuffling out of his bedroom as well, scratching his cheek in the middle of a yawn. "Why did we have to do this so early?" he asks.

"Because we need to go workout before tonight still," Cora says.

Stiles realizes with a frown that he and she are both wearing backwards baseball caps. Isaac doesn't wear hats with his hair, and Stiles doesn't know what Derek does. "You look good in a hat," he says to her.

"Derek looks better," she says absentmindedly.

Well, that answers that.

"Shame you're wearing the only one we've got," Derek says, stuffing his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

"You can wear mine if I try on any ears," Stiles says with a wink.

"Alright, enough flirting," Cora says, ushering everyone towards the door. "I get enough of that at work."

There's a downstairs parking garage with two parking spots, one of them with a covered motorcycle and the other with an uncovered black 2002 Camaro.

"I'm driving," Derek says.

"Shotgun!" Stiles yells.

"You wish," Cora says. "You and Isaac can cuddle in the back."

The music is not played quietly. Stiles likes hard rock (and he knows that Isaac does too), but what's really funny is the way Derek and Cora are both bobbing their heads to it—and it's even _better_ with Cora's hat and the shiny sunglasses Derek has on even though it's barely sunny out at all.

"Alright," Cora says as she and the other three step into a giant all-costume Halloween store. "We should split up." She looks at Derek. "You're going to hate me, but I'm sending you with Stiles since Isaac and I are the only ones who don't already have what we need."

Stiles grins up at him and winks.

Derek rolls his eyes. "I'll get over it."

Their two groups separate at that, Cora and Isaac going to a different side of the building than Stiles and Derek.

"So," Stiles says. "Does Mr. Broody want anything?"

Derek shakes his head. "I don't dress up for Halloween."

Stiles' jaw drops. "Why not?"

"I don't like wasting the money on it. Cora only is this year because Lydia is paying for it."

Stiles purses his lips. "Well… If they don't need my money, maybe you can use it!"

Derek raises an eyebrow. "What's the point? I'm probably just going to sit in the back of the club anyway."

"No way, people who come always have costumes! It's one of the most popular places to go for the…adults around here. We make it fun!"

Derek shrugs. It looks weird on him. Stiles is used to the dark asshole that doesn't like people, but now he's played board games and possibly smiled and now he's here, walking around costumes with an annoying twenty-two year old. "I don't know what I'd be."

Stiles grins. "Stick with me, big guy. I got you."

Stiles putters around the store, Derek using his long legs for big strides to keep up. "Would you rather be something real or supernatural?"

"Supernatural," he says, picking at hangers.

"Alright, what's your favorite monster?"

Derek is _definitely_ grinning a little bit. "Guess."

Stiles thinks about what the moon means to him and grins. "Werewolf?"

He nods.

"Well that _would_ be cool, but Cora already has it and you'd just be boring." He goes passed him to the next rack. "Something…" He glances back at him. "Sexy?"

Derek cringes a little.

Stiles nods. "You're right, you're sexy enough." He grabs up a vampire costume. "So let's make you even more!"

Derek wrinkles his nose up even more. "A _vampire_?"

Stiles shrugs. "I don't want to be the only guy with eyeliner on."

Derek rolls his eyes. "No."

Stiles huffs. "Fine," he says, putting it back. "_You_ think of something."

He grabs up nothing less than a werewolf costume.

Stiles groans. "But you'll be _hairy_."

"Why does this even matter?" he asks, shoving it back. "I don't even _want_ to be anything."

Stiles sighs. "You are such a party pooper." He pulls off his hat and shoves it onto Derek's head, still backwards. "Wear a sign that says 'Nudist on Strike'. Fuckin' sour-face."

Derek frowns. "Why do you care so much? It's just a damn costume."

Stiles sighs. "Because I'm going to have spent the last three years wearing some sex-crazed outfit so I can make a few bucks and get myself through school!"

Derek mashes his lips together. "I'm sorry."

Stiles huffs again, turning away. "It's fine, be the damn werewolf."

Stiles is definitely surprise when one of Derek's hands grabs onto one of his. "I want to be the vampire."

Stiles frowns at him. "Suddenly you care?"

Derek lets go with a little sigh. "I really don't want to be anything," he says, pulling Stiles' hat off. "But thank you." He puts it back on Stiles' head. "Let's find you some cuter ears than those things you wear at the club."

Stiles can't help but smile a little, grabbing his hands again. "I know where they keep all the cat stuff. Come on."

Derek is the most adorable thing that Stiles has ever seen. He's curling tails around his fingers and making faces at the cat masks and flicking at the whiskers. They don't find any better cat ears, but they do run into Cora and Isaac.

"I found a Finnick costume," Isaac says. "And Lydia can paint a sunset on my face or something."

"So we can go now?" Derek asks.

Stiles elbows him. "Stop being a sour-face!"

Cora frowns. "Are you wearing Stiles' hat?"

Derek looks up at his head. "I thought I gave it back."

"You did," Stiles says, "but I put it back on when you were playing with the tails."

Derek rolls his eyes and takes it off. "We are definitely going now."

**XxX**

_October 26, Saturday (2:58 PM)…_

"Stiles, thank god you're here!" Lydia says loudly as soon as he, Cora, and Isaac walk into the gym. Erica and Heather are already there. Whenever Stiles is going to be invited his "kids" are as well, so it's no surprise.

Stiles frowns, letting her shake him a little. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Danielle is sick and she's supposed to be the opening show for the night! I would put somebody else up but most of us are going to be going on right after you for the next number!"

Stiles frowns. "_Tonight_ is a show night? I thought those were just on Friday's."

"No, we're switching it because—oh, it doesn't matter. Do you remember all the dance moves you had to that Arctic Monkeys song?"

Stiles tilts his head a little. "Do I Wanna Know?"

She nods.

"Uh, yeah, but it's the only one."

"Good, you won't have anything mixing up in your head! Do you think you could do that tonight?"

Stiles' eyes widen. "You mean…in front of everyone?"

She nods. "Danielle was supposed to be that slower, sexier opening song and then I was going to throw in a whole bunch of explosions when Caitlin and Emily sing Can't Be Tamed. All of the animals and things are supposed to go out with them." She looks at Isaac. "You too. Just swing around a pole a lot."

He nods, moving to sit down beside where Cora is.

Stiles pulls in a deep breath. "You want me to dance to the Arctic Monkeys in front of everyone for the opening showing? What happens after all the shows?"

"We go back to regular dancing and you get to walk away with your underwear stuffed with bills because everybody will know who you are and you'll be more popular."

Stiles instantly nods. "Deal."

"Good. Let's do some practices before we practice it to make _sure_ you remember everything, alright?"

Stiles nods. "Good idea."

**XxX**

_October 26, Saturday (7:30 PM)…_

Stiles takes a deep breath, listening to the first beats of the song. He knows that he can do it perfectly since he just did during both of the practices that Lydia put him through, but he's still nervous. He's never been the main event in a show before.

The lights are dark enough that nobody can really see him up front, dressed in a bit of his usual look (fake nails sharpened to points, fake cat ears stuck to the top of his head, and the fake tail) but there's also been stuff added to it for the song: biker gloves, guyliner (the things he does for money…), a pair of tattered looking jean mini-shorts, some lame crop-top with "KITTEN" written across the front, and shoes that _look_ like combat boots but they're really just mad out of ballet shoe material so he can spin around better and so they're not so heavy when he lifts his legs around the pole.

The lights shine on when the guitar starts up, and Stiles looks up from the ground on the next beat, looking around with the most casual bedroom eyes that he can muster. He can't see Derek anywhere, but that's probably 'cause he's holed himself up in the very back or something—or maybe he's not even here. Stiles just knows that he walked in with them when he first showed up and that Cora likes it when he's here, now.

_Have you got color in your cheeks?_  
_Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide that sticks around like summate in your teeth?  
_  
Stiles isn't actually singing, but he mouths along to the words anyway. This is a good song, after all, and it gives a better feel when it looks like he's the one singing some of the lines.

_Are there some aces up your sleeve?_  
_Have you no idea that you're in deep?_  
_I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week_  
_How many secrets can you keep?_  
_'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat_  
_Until I fell asleep_  
_Spilling drinks on my settee…  
_  
Stiles is really glad he's practiced all these moves. Pole-dancing is not easy, because in this club it's not just sexily walking around it. Stiles actually has to do some spins, flipping around upside down with one hand and swinging back over in a sort of cartwheel motion. Nobody ever gives strippers the credit they deserve. You need to have some serious arm strength to be able to even _think_ about getting into it so extensively.

Then again, Stiles is _also_ just doing those sexy walks around it, plus the occasional dip downwards. He's just a stripper, after all. Clothes come off because people are here for skin and the way that you move, not how strong you are when you spin around on a metal stick.

_(Do I wanna know?)_  
_If this feeling flows both ways_  
_(Sad to see you go)_  
_I've started hoping that you'd stay_  
_(Didn't we both know)_  
_That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day_

Crawling back to you…

Stiles is good at crawling, too, and it's even better with the tail and claws.

_Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?_  
_'Cause I always do_  
_Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new_  
_Now I've thought it through_

_Crawling back to you…_

Stiles suddenly spots Derek at that point, the jean shorts off so that he's just in his favorite thong, the boots, and the shirt. Maybe he should get a tattoo on his lower back to show off at moments like this… Maybe one between his legs, too, on his inner thigh. Mostly the reason he hasn't is because one, they're expensive and two, he faints at the site of needles. He'd have to get a blindfold _and_ get Scott, Allison, and countless others to hold him down. He's pretty sure it's not really worth it. Now, henna tattoos he can do, since those don't take needles at all.  
Derek looks…strained. It's like this mix between wanting to leave, wanting to stay, and wanting to fall over onto the floor. Stiles has gotten the two latter, but never that first one. He must be doing pretty good if even Derek is staring at him with such rapt attention…

_So have you got the guts?_  
_Been wondering if you heart's still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts_  
_Simmer down and pucker up_  
_I'm sorry to interrupt it's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you_  
_I don't know if you feel the same as I do_  
_We could be together if you wanted to  
_  
Stiles finds Derek in the crowd again, purposefully giving him the sexiest bedroom eyes he can muster as he slips slowly down the pole, his back to it so that everybody can basically see exactly what they'd be getting if they found him on the streets one night. Derek is probably going to kill him later, but it's totally going to be worth it.

_(Do I wanna know?)_  
_If this feeling flows both ways_  
_(Sad to see you go)_  
_I've started hoping that you'd stay_  
_(Didn't we both know)_  
_That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day_

_Crawling back to you (crawling back to you)…_

Derek suddenly jumps up, disappearing out of the main room towards the back door. Stiles isn't sure if he's just trying to get away or if he's going to talk to someone, but he'll have to find out.

_Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?_  
_'Cause I always do_  
_Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new_  
_Now I've thought it through  
_  
This is no longer as much fun without staring at somebody that Stiles knows, but that doesn't stop his quality of dance. He wants people to like him, after all. The better he is now the more bills he'll get stuffed into his outfit later.

_(Do I wanna know)_  
_Too busy being yours to fall_  
_(Sad to see you go)_  
_|Ever thought of calling darlin'_  
_(Do I wanna know)_  
_Do you want me crawling back to you_

Stiles walks out the back of the stage as sexily as he can as the music fades away, grinning to himself at the cheers that he gets. Definitely getting some good money tonight.

And, just like Stiles is, he trips walking away—thank god nobody out there saw and that there are just people that are used to him back here.

"Nice one," one of the male strippers Stiles doesn't know says, helping him up.

Stiles grins. "Thanks."

He makes his way downstairs to change back into his usual simple outfit, grinning at Caitlin and Emily as they go passed him in their own outfits for the next number before it goes back to regular girls walking around instead of show-like things.

"You did _great_, Stiles," Lydia says, patting him on the shoulder as she goes passed him. This number requires back-up dancers, after all, and Lydia's okay with not always being in the spotlight.

Stiles grins as he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge they've got down there. "Thanks!" he calls after her before guzzling half of it. He realizes with a frown that he's the only one down here when he takes a breath after finishing the entire bottle a couple of seconds later. Most everyone is up on the stage right now for this number, and the others must just be helping serve drinks and things.

"I hate make-up," he mutters to himself, sitting in front of a mirror to fix his up for when he goes back up.

"I think it looks fine."

Stiles yelps a little when he sees Derek in the mirror, and he quick turns around to glare. "You can't knock or something?"

"As if _you_ would?"

He rolls his eyes, turning back around. "That's beside the point. Anyway, I saw you sitting in the back, there. Did I do okay or did you run away because you had to vomit?"

Derek coughs awkwardly. "Um, no, you did fine."

Stiles smirks, making eye contact with him through the mirror. "You're adorable," he says.

Derek looks away. "I have no idea where you decided that."

"I turned you on and you know it."

"Anyone else would have, too."

"Which is why you're down here to talk to me?" He turns around, twisting shut the mascara. "Come on, what's up?"

"I was looking for Cora."

Stiles snorts, turning back around to fix the whiskers drawn onto his cheeks. "Lying is not adorable, but your face sure is anyway. She's up on the stage since she's got an animal costume for the Miley Cyrus song."

"I'm not lying," Derek says, ignoring the directions to where his little sister is."

"Stop denying it, Derek," Stiles says, capping the make-up pen and turning back around. "I turn people on for a living. I know what I'm doing and I know exactly how you're feeling right now. I'm not saying you've got a secret undying love for me, I'm just saying you've got a boner. Is it really that hard to admit?"

Derek huffs, looking away again. "I never should have let Cora take you in that night. Prostitution is _totally_ illegal."

Stiles grins, deciding to really try for the guy at least once tonight: "Prostitute schmostitute. I'd do you for free."

Derek's eyes widen a little.

"Don't give me that look," Stiles says, getting up to go change back into his usual outfit. Unlike people who work here regularly, he just wears the same thing every time since nobody sees it very often. "You've _got_ to know how attractive you are. Didn't you see the face that Isaac made when you came out in just those sweats?"

"I…didn't, actually." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Stiles grins, just changing right in front of Derek. It's not like he's taking off his thong, so Derek's really already seen most of his skin anyway after the show. "I really want to see you smile," he says, sashaying (he's good at that, too) over to him.

Derek frowns a little, taking a step back and just running into the lockers there. "Why?"

"Because you have really nice teeth." Stiles steps right up to him, giving him nowhere to go. "A really nice everything, really." He walks two fingers up one of Derek's arm before hopping them over to the middle of his chest. "Maybe you can sink those nice teeth into marks on my skin sometime."

Derek' eyes widen again, but he doesn't get to say anything before Stiles pushes up on his toes and presses a tiny little kiss to his lips.

"Think about it," he says, taking a step away. "You'll be the only one that's never had to pay." He quick disappears up the stairs, heart beating rapidly. Did he really just do that? Yeah, he really did. His brilliant gift of pretending got the best of him and he accidentally used all of his fake-sexiness for real. Now what? Derek never looks at him again? Dammit.

**XxX**

_October 27, Sunday (3:36 AM)…_

Stiles sighs as he walks back down the stairs with everyone else at closing time, thrilled at the idea of changing back into jeans and a t-shirt. He frowns, though, when he opens his locker to see that there's an extra article of clothing stuffed into it. Pulling it out, though, his jaw drops. It's Derek's leather jacket, a little note taped right inside:

_ You didn't have a sweatshirt today. Figured you'd be cold coming out of this place. I don't work until noon tomorrow. Tell Cora she's going to your place with Isaac and Peter tonight because she owes me. I drive a red motorcycle._  
_—D  
_  
Stiles hyperventilates a bit, but at least it doesn't turn into a full-blown panic attack.

"What's wrong with you?" Cora asks.

Stiles shoves the note into her hands.

Her eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Do I look kidding?" he asks breathlessly, stripping as fast as he can.

She laughs. "Oh my god, no, you don't. This is totally Derek's handwriting." She holds the note up. "Isaac, Isaac!" She runs over to him, and Stiles is very glad that they got to bond over costume shopping earlier today.

Stiles shrugs Derek's jacket on as soon as he's dressed, waving goodbye to people and running up the stairs. He goes out of the back door since it's closest, and instead of walking down the steps there he finds himself just standing right outside, staring over at the shiny red motorcycle that Derek is leaning against in his grey long sleeve. He looks up as Stiles is standing there, and after a few seconds of staring he smiles. A real smile, showing off his those perfect teeth.

Stiles' knees do _not_ go weak (yes they do), and he quick goes down the stairs and right up to him. It is freezing out. He's glad he's got Derek's jacket, but… "Aren't you cold?" he asks.

"I haven't been out here for very long," he says, grabbing up the two helmets Stiles didn't see sitting on the back. "Here," he says. "This is Cora's. It should fit you fine."

Stiles puts it on and lifts up the visor so Derek can see him. "How lame do I look in this?"

Derek smirks a little. "With the leather jacket you look great."

He pulls his on as well, leaving his visor down, and swinging onto the bike. "Hold on tight," he says.

Stiles flips his visor down and swings on after him, wrapping his arms around his stomach. "Don't kill us," he says.

Derek's only reply is a laugh before the bike starts, and then they're speeding off—definitely faster than the speed limit, but Stiles honestly doesn't care. Being that it's a Saturday night they get back to the condo at about three-forty-five in the morning, but Stiles is prepared to stay up until dawn for anything that Derek is thinking about.

The elevator ride is completely silent. Stiles keeps glancing up at Derek and then looking away when Derek glances back and vice versa, thinking way too hard about what Derek really _is_ thinking about it.

"Bathroom?" Derek asks, motioning as he walks towards his room.

"Yeah," Stiles says. He stares into the mirror for a long time, making sure that he's all fixed up right. His hair could use a little touch-up, but it's not like Derek really cares. He's still got all his make-up on, too, but he can just take it off tomorrow morning.

Derek goes in after he comes out, so Stiles shrugs and goes straight into Derek's room. He's never been in here before, and he's surprised to see how bland it is. The walls are white and he's got nothing hanging on it but a cork board that only holds a calendar and a single picture of six people he doesn't recognize. The rest of the room has a high bed, an intricately carved bookshelf, a matching desk and chair, and closed closet doors. That's it, like a hotel room.

Stiles kicks off his shoes into a corner and pulls of his shirt to drop on top of them, and he's just about to undo his belt when Derek walks into the room and straight over to him, pushing him back at the bed so that Stiles bends over it at the waist. He doesn't kiss him right away, but just leans over him and stares a bit.

Stiles grins. "Gonna use that perfect everything or do I have to drag you down here?"

Derek kisses him soft at first, but it's not long before it's a hard, desperate, tongue-lashing mess that Stiles will never get enough of. He reaches up and tugs at Derek's shirt, separating their mouths just long enough to get it off and onto the floor.

"You have nice handwriting," Stiles says as Derek's hands are working at getting Stiles' belt away. "Why did you change your mind?"

"My mind was already set," Derek says, tossing the belt onto the floor before reaching back for the button and zipper. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

Stiles grins. "So you're finally admitting that I gave you a boner?"

Derek rolls his eyes a little, pushing Stiles down more so he can pull the jeans off and toss them over with the shoes. Unlike Cora's room, Derek's is actually tidy. "More than one, thanks."

Stiles snorts, pulling Derek with him as he crawls farther up the bed. "Oh? When else?"

"Right now, for one."

Stiles hums, pulling him down for another kiss. Derek isn't just a god in the looks department, he's got the softest lips that Stiles has ever kissed in his life—including Isaac's, and that kid has some soft skin. The stubble on his face is just enough that it doesn't scratch unpleasantly, and his chest is glistening like marble in the light from the hallway (they didn't turn the bedroom one on and Derek didn't close the door; Stiles is fine with both). Stiles lets his hands play across it, dragging softly but with just enough pressure to cause Derek to give the tiniest of twitches. He took the fake claws off in the bathroom, so they're currently in the pocket of his jeans.

"Pants," Stiles mumbles against Derek's mouth, tugging at the front of Derek's jeans. "Off."

Derek complies, kicking them off the end of the bed before pushing down between Stiles' legs and grinding against him. Stiles doesn't even try to hide is moan, and he just moans harder when Derek gives the same noise. He's still in his thong, but Derek has on boxers—the _classic_ boxers, white with big red hearts all over them. It's adorable.

Stiles moves his hands around to Derek's back to drag them down the muscles there, holding him closer and arching harder and… And Stiles realizes something. He doesn't just want Derek because he's attractive. He's got a crush. The way he let Stiles put the hat onto his head and made faces at the cat masks and letting Stiles keep guessing during Dirty Minds and… Shit. Is this bad? It has to be. Stiles doesn't have _time_ for a crush, he—

Stiles frowns a little as Derek pulls away from his mouth, dragging hot, heavy kisses down his chin and to his neck. Stiles is most _definitely_ going to have a hicky there, but he's not complaining. He hasn't had somebody's mouth on his neck like this in a long time. Derek starts to pull down again after that, dragging his mouth even lower down Stiles body until—

"Oh my god," Stiles chokes out, watching and _feeling_ the way that Derek mouths his dick through the fabric of the thong. He hasn't had a mouth anywhere _near_ his dick in a very, very long time. The last time was about a year ago when a woman came to him to practice for her boyfriend.

Derek is definitely smirking a little bit as he presses his tongue to the cloth, his hands wrapped around Stiles' thighs. "Top drawer of the nightstand," he says in a breath.

Stiles knows that he means lube, so he reaches over to it and snatch it out. It's regular, which is fine. Stiles has never been partial when people bring their own lube and it's got some weird, hot feeling to it that's supposed to make it hotter. Considering that it's just a job for him it's never that hot in the first place. Thankfully none of his clients ever really expect him to get off at the whole thing.

"You wanted to see me smile," Derek says, taking the bottle. "I hope you're okay with me returning the favor."

Stiles gives a fervent nod, starting to sit up a little, but Derek just pushes him back down before opening up the cap and coating three of his fingers. Stiles never realized the gorgeous jade green hue of Derek's eyes, before…

Stiles has had fingers in his ass before, but he's been doing this whole sex in the city thing for a very long time now, so he's used to most guys not even getting to that point before sticking it in. Derek is thorough, though, and the fact that he's got his mouth back on Stiles' cock through the thong is making it even better.

"Oh my god," Stiles eventually chokes out, reaching down to shove at his hand. "Derek, I need you, I—"

Derek nods, pulling his mouth away as well. Stiles didn't close the drawer, so he sees a condom in it and quick grabs it out as Derek is pulling his boxers off. Stiles' mouth is _not_ watering (okay, so it is) as he rips open the condom and sits up to kiss Derek hard as he puts rolls it on for him, pulling away once it's on to see Derek's cheeks flushed red.

"Roll over," he says.

Stiles immediately complies, getting up on his hands and knees and arching his back so that Derek has complete access to his ass. He doesn't even remember that he's got the thong on until he feels Derek shove the back aside before positioning himself against him, breath as heavy as Stiles is. He pushes in without a warning, pulling out an instant moan from Stiles' throat and letting out his own breathy sound of pleasure as well.

Derek moves fast right away, but it's when Stiles sees stars flash from behind his eyes at the touch of his prostate that Derek starts to stroke in and out of him slowly, hitting it every single time, and fuck, Stiles is close and he doesn't even have his cock out of his thong yet.

That's when Derek pulls out completely, causing Stiles to look back at him with a sound of displeasure.

"Shh," Derek says softly, fingers hooking into the thong and dragging it down.

Stiles lets out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding as his cock is let free, and he watches as Derek drags the thong down to his knees before going back up and sliding right back in. Stiles bites hard on his bottom lip, not caring about the taste of blood. Derek is leaning down over him as he starts up his stroking again, and Stiles is just about to reach his hand up at his cock when one of Derek's hands is instead around it, tugging at it in time with his thrusts.

Stiles has had his fair practice of holding himself in as long as he can so he so he just comes at the same time as a buyer (sometimes they really do feel good, so yeah, he gets the occasional boner; usually it only regularly happens with Deucalion, though, since he's been a regular for so long and knows exactly how to make Stiles feel good at the same time that he's feeling just as so), but Derek isn't a buyer, so he gives one last moan before spilling out over Derek's hand and onto the sheets. It's not a huge deal since it sets Derek off just right and he comes as well, holding himself into Stiles and wrapping his sticky hand tightly around Stiles' stomach, his own chest and stomach pressed across the entirety of Stiles' back.

Stiles drops down onto his stomach as Derek pulls out, and he hears a little thunk of a condom hitting the inside of a trashcan before Derek is dropping onto his side beside Stiles, draping an arm over his lower back and pulling him closer. Stiles expects that to be it, but when he turns his head up to give the man a tired smile he gets the type of soft, slow, perfect kiss that Stiles is pretty sure he's never gotten before in his entire life.

"Thank you," Derek whispers, slipping the hand on Stiles' lower back up to the back of his neck.

Stiles breathes a little laugh. He hates it when people thank him for sexual acts, but right now he's tired and Derek is cute. "You're welcome," he says, kissing him again.

Derek falls asleep first, both arms wrapped around Stiles' stomach. Stiles didn't really see him as a cuddler, but he's not complaining. He loves being close to people, after all.

Their sex was fast and needy and sweaty. Stiles has had fast and sweaty before, but it's never been needy. He's fallen in love with the feeling, he thinks… He never knew he could be missing something this good since he's almost completely sick of sex altogether. People buy him and he fucks because it's his job, but Derek didn't buy him and he fucked because he needed it.

Stiles gives Derek's forehead a soft kiss before passing out in his arms.

* * *

Ending chapter notes: I'm aware that the Camaro that Derek actually drives is a 2011, but because money is always tight I'm downgrading them a bit ::P Also he and Cora have a motorcycle because that's totally hot okay


	5. Chapter 5

[Chapter summary: In which Stiles stays with Derek some more, gets a text from Deucalion, cries in his sleep, and gets convinced to try a little bit harder.]

**Chapter 5**

Quick note: I'm making up Derek's dad's name as "Roland", and later on the sheriff's name is to be "Patrick". For reasons.

* * *

_October 27, Sunday (10:00 AM)…_

Stiles wakes up to way too much movement, opening his eyes to Derek stretching as he's swinging out of bed. He also sees a clock that reads exactly ten in the morning.

"Work?" Stiles breathes, stretching out under the blankets.

"Yup," Derek says, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor. "Shower first, though."

Stiles grins, sitting up slowly. "Room for two?"

Derek looks over his shoulder with the tiniest of smirks. "I'm sure I can make some."

Showering with clients is not an often thing that Stiles does, so getting in with Derek is not something he's used to. He makes up for that with a killer blowjob, though, so it's not a huge deal. When they head back to Derek's room for clothes, Stiles notices the picture on the corkboard again.

"Who's the picture of?" he asks, motioning to it.

Derek looks over at it, expression soft. "It's me and my family from…a long time ago. I'm fifteen in that picture."

Stiles' eyes widen, instantly picking out who Derek is. "Damn, boy, you filled out."

Derek shrugs. "I work out too much."

"Who are the others? I don't recognize anyone."

Derek reaches over and grabs it off, holding it between them. "It's me, Cora, Peter—"

"_That's_ Peter?"

"Yeah, before the burns. He was always more of a brother to me than to my mom."

"Is that her?"

Derek nods. "Talia Hale, and her husband—my dad, Roland—is beside her. My older sister, Laura, is on his other side; she lives in New York now."

"The picture makes your moms eyes look red."

Derek smiles a little. "Yeah, that happened in all of the pictures we took. It didn't matter what angle it was from. My dad always gave her hell for it."

Stiles grins, but then he frowns a little bit, holding it closer to his face. Roland doesn't have a shirt on and there's a mirror behind him (it's not a professional picture; Derek is giving Peter bunny ears, Cora has straws sticking out of her nose, Laura has on Wolverine claws, and Talia is giving Roland the most "done" face that Stiles has ever seen in his life). "Is that…your tattoo?"

Derek nods. "It's where I got the idea from. His meant father, mother, and child."

Stiles nods, handing it back to him. "Are they in New York, too?"

"Uh, no, they…they died."

Stiles' heart breaks a little. "Oh… What happened?"

"Building fire. It's where Peter got his burns, too."

Stiles' heart breaks the rest of the way, taking one of Derek's hands. "Both of them? Derek, I'm sorry." He squeezes. "I lost my mom to cancer… Less dramatic."

Derek gives him a quizzical look. "Really?"

Stiles nods. "I got to hold her hand as she died."

Derek looks away. "I don't know which is worse, being with someone or not hearing about it until later."

Stiles shrugs. "Let's not find out. My dad is a sheriff a couple of towns over. I'd rather not hear about it when they find me."

Derek frowns. "Find you?"

"My dad is a cop and I sell myself illegally. It's not a good mix. He doesn't know I'm this close, though. I don't really want him to know."

Derek gives Stiles a hard look. "You know, you're not really trying that hard to get out of all this."

Stiles nods. "I know. I'm saving it for after college."

"What if you _could_ fix it now, though?"

"If I found something with the right pay I would do it in a heartbeat, yeah."

"You wouldn't have to quit cold turkey… A weekday job, Saturday's at the club, and Sunday's on the street—plus any days off. It wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"Derek, I hardly have any experience in anything. You _really_ think I could get a job with 'part-time stripper' as my previous work?"

"Just don't put anything down at all. Get an entry-level job. You're good with people and you're going to college."

"The problem with my people skills is that I _flirt_, though. Also I trip over everything."

"Yeah, Cora told me about the first time she saw you, not to mention you ran into a chair when you brought me into the club. We can practice not flirting or something."

"_You_ help me? Derek, we had sex, how will I _not_ flirt with you?"

"You haven't since the shower."

"Because you're distracting me."

"Exactly. Text me your usual schedule, would you? I gotta go."

Stiles frowns, following him out of the bedroom. "Why do you need my schedule?"

Derek sighs. "I need dinner. I'm gonna be late."

He starts to close the door, but Stiles stops him. "Just go, I'll make one. I need to go grocery shopping anyway. When's your break?"

"Five."

"I'll be there."

Stiles next finds himself alone in the condo, tromping into the kitchen. "Food…" he mutters, looking through cupboards. "Simple foods…" He ends up making a turkey sandwich with cheese and grabbing a bottle of blue Gatorade, hoping that Derek will like it enough. Afterwards he grabs up his few things, and with a smile he sees that Derek left his leather jacket, so he shrugs that on too before stealing one of Cora's scarves (he can take the buses home during the day, but they're still pretty cold). They won't mind.

Stiles does homework and studies for four hours at his own place, somewhat surprised that neither Isaac or Cora are there. It's about halfway through the four hours that Lydia's ringtone goes off.

"Hello?"

"Stiles, oh my god, I love you."

Stiles frowns. "Don't tell Jackson."

"I _will_ tell Jackson! Do you have any idea how popular you were last night? You made more in your underwear than I did!"

Stiles' gapes down at his college books. "You're shitting me."

"I am _not_. You _have_ to do another show for Halloween."

"But I only know the one dance!"

"I know, which is why you need to get over here whenever you can so we can practice the new one that I wrote for you. I'll pay you for every second you're here."

Stiles frowns. "You mean—"

"I mean you're off the streets every night until after Halloween. Some group of women called me to ask if you'd be here tonight, too. Can you be?"

Stiles' entire face is like a light bulb. "I was _requested_?"

"You heard me."

"_Yes_, I'll be there!"

"Good! Do you want to get paid at the end of the nights like usual or should I keep it until Halloween night?"

"You can just write a check at the very end of it all."

"Alright, sounds good. When can you be here tonight?"

"Uh, I have to grocery shop at five, but I'm free after I get everything back home."

"Okay, we open at seven tonight, so we'll just start practice tomorrow after you're classes."

Stiles can't stop grinning. "Deal."

And now he's practically skipping out of his building to walk to the bank, Derek's bagged lunch in hand and his empty wallet in his jeans pocket—empty of money, anyway. He's got his college ID card and drivers license (yes, he went through drivers ed back in high school), too.

When he walks into the grocery store he spots Derek right away, walking away from a checkout. Stiles grins, about to say that his timing is perfect, but instead he manages to trip over his untied shoelace. Derek somehow covers the space between them in a split second, catching him.

"And I thought _I_ had good timing," Stiles says with a laugh as Derek rights him. "Thanks."

"Nice catch, Hale!"

Derek rolls his eyes before turning to a fellow employee. "He brought me lunch, it's the least I could do."

Stiles plops down across from him in the booth he chooses, pushing the plastic bag of food across to him. "Sorry if it sucks," he says.

Derek opens the bag and shrugs. "It's what I usually have."

"Well you'll be happy to know that I cleaned up after myself."

"Oh good." He gives Stiles a little frown around a bite. "Is that my jacket?"

"Yes."

"And Cora's scarf?"

"Also yes."

He smiles a little, careful not to let Stiles see the food in his mouth. "They look good."

Stiles grins. "Thanks."

"You're welcome.

When Stiles doesn't stop grinning, Derek frowns again. "What's up with you?"

"I got _requested_."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm off the streets until Halloween."

Derek raises an eyebrow, opening the Gatorade. "_How_?"

"You weren't the only one that liked my show, apparently. Lydia got a call asking if I'd be there tonight. I'm doing another show on Halloween night. Not sure what, but I'll found out."

Derek actually smiles at him around a mouthful. "Really? The next four nights?"

"Yup!"

"What's your schedule, then?"

Stiles rattles it off, talking about college and the club, and then what it will be after Halloween.

"So you'd be free on weekday evenings on normal weeks?" he asks.

"No, those are street nights."

Derek shakes his head. "Not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

Derek grins a little, swallowing. "Go do your shopping, Stiles. I'll check you out."

"I don't take half an hour to shop."

"Just find me."

Stiles does find him twenty minutes later, putting his things on the belt.

"That's a hell of a lot of Top Ramen," Derek says as he scans.

Stiles shrugs. "A true college student."

"Do you share food with Peter?"

"Only sometimes, but I almost always do with Isaac. He doesn't officially live with me, but he's over enough that he just keeps his foot at the apartment."

Derek nods. "You goin' straight to Lydia's after this?"

Stiles doesn't feel like correcting him on whose place it actually is. "No, I'm bringing these back home first."

Derek frowns as he scans Stiles' last item. "Are you walking?"

Stiles nods.

"With all of these?"

Another nod.

Derek shakes his head, reaching to pull out a set of keys. "Can you drive stick?"

Stiles' eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope." He tosses them into one of the bags. "Bring it back."

"No," he says sarcastically, "I was planning on keeping it."

Derek rolls his eyes, giving Stiles his change. "I'm parked in the back."

Stiles practically swoons when he gets into the drivers seat. It's been a long time since he's driven, but it's all coming back to him as the engine starts up. He gives Derek a huge grin when he walks back inside after going home and putting his groceries away, throwing the keys for him to catch.

"You're the best," he calls.

Derek just smirks, continuing on with the person he's helping at the checkout.

When Stiles walks into the club just before opening time, Erica and Heather both corner him.

"Lydia's bringing us and Isaac in, too," Erica says. "Thanks."

"Also," Heather says, "steer clear of Isaac and Cora. They're planning on bombarding you about that Derek guy."

Lydia finds Stiles next, holding an armful clothing of black with white stripes. "I got you a couple of new outfits," she says. "This one is an inverted white tiger. Also, how do you feel about singing?"

Stiles shrugs, staring to strip so he can change. "It's up to you."

"We'll practice that too, then. How about…" She grins a little. "Ke$ha?"

Stiles groans.

**XxX**

_October 28, Monday (3:02 AM)…_

When Stiles gets off at the club he sees that he has a text from "Duke" (yes, Deucalion has his number; usually he calls since he can't see anything, but sometimes he just has one of his pack write it for him): **Heard you're busy till Halloween. My place tonight. Ethan will take you home. Meet Kali out back for a ride here when you're off.**

Stiles sighs. He could ignore it, but he's not that tired, so he should just go. He's not sure how Deucalion already heard, but whatever. **Off now**, he replies.

Kali is smirking at him from where she's leaning against her expensive black motorcycle, not near as sexy as Derek was. Deucalion's bought bikes for all five of his "girls". Honestly, if Stiles had to have a pimp, he'd choose Deucalion hands down. They share a place, share food, _and_ Stiles is pretty sure that Matt and Ennis have been helping out by dealing drugs for even more money than they already make on the streets.

"You can wear Aiden's helmet," she says. "Deucalion wouldn't like it if you died. I beg to differ."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Good to see you too, Kali."

The ride is silent even though Stiles knows their helmets have Walkie Talkie's in them, but Stiles is glad that it is. It's not awkward, he's just not a huge fan of Deucalion's pack. The twins are nice enough, especially if they're trying to get _away_ from Deucalion. Ethan is going to take Stiles home, right? He can talk to him about it then. Maybe about Danny, too. Stiles likes Danny.

Stiles is glad to see that neither Cora or Derek are out of their condo, so he just follows Kali into 5A instead. All of the others are sitting out, Aiden and Matt sharing a bong, Ennis tipping a beer back, and Ethan playing a volume-less video game with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Stiles decides there's no reason that he would ever want a pimp ever. Being able to afford addictions would put him right back in the gutter. Also, it smells like a whole shit ton of nasty smoke in here.

"He's waiting for you in his room," Ennis says, tossing Kali a little bag of white powder.

Stiles quick gets in there, afraid he'll accidentally snort in some cocaine lingering in the air or something. He's usually never here when all of Deucalion's pack are, or at the very least it's just a couple of him. All five is a stretch.

"Heyuh, Duke," Stiles says as he pushes the door open. Deucalion's room is always so dark since he can't see anything anyway, but Stiles can see him sitting on his bed in a pair of jeans.

"Hello, Stiles."

Stiles huffs, shutting the door behind him. "Don't give me that tone. I didn't _have_ to tell you I'd be busy. How did you even find out, anyway? I would have told you if you just called me."

"I have spies," Deucalion says, mostly joking but not really. "And I wasn't using a tone, I am simply questioning whether or not you'll be coming back at all."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "You mean get a permanent life off the streets? I wish."

"Those two Hale's have been helping you, yes?"

Stiles swallows tightly. "Cora works at the club. They let me stay over if it's late because they don't want me to go home in the dark."

He nods as if that's an acceptable excuse. "I can give you anything you want, you know. Better clothes, a bigger bed, and of course a motorcycle like the others."

"I know that," Stiles says, "but I don't want any of it." He grins and moves closer, stepping between Deucalion's legs. "Are you going to give me what I do want, though? Because I've missed you." He pushes his hand through the man's hair. "I missed this room."

Stiles is one hell of a good liar when it comes to these situations and he knows it. He gets his night with Deucalion over as fast as he can before tucking him into bed and flitting out, happy to see that Ethan is already waiting for him, just grinding out another cigarette.

"How've you been?" the youngest twin asks as they walk out.

Stiles is about to lie, but instead he sees the door to 5B and is hit with such intense feelings of hatred and regret that he trips a little bit.

"Klutz," Ethan says, patting him on the back.

Stiles shakes his head, looking back at him. "Cora and I are gonna get you and your brother out of here, okay?" he whispers. "At the very least into the club, and you can live up top with some of the others. You trust me, right?"

Ethan gives him a hard look before it softens. "The club is too close," he whispers back. "We've got to keep going."

"You're going to leave Danny?"

Ethan averts his eyes. "He knows the situation. He understands."

Stiles sighs. "I don't need a ride home, okay? I'm gonna stay across the hall tonight."

Ethan looks over at the door. "I'll tell Deucalion you just wanted to walk."

Stiles snorts. "He won't believe you."

He shrugs. "Cigarettes are bad for me anyway."

When Ethan is back inside, Stiles takes a very deep breath before knocking very quietly. It's nearly five in the morning; there's no way that anyone is up.

When the door swings open a few seconds later to reveal Derek, Stiles feels like he's about to cry—which is stupid because he doesn't even _remember_ the last time he cried.

"Stiles?" he asks, eyes hard and tired.

"I'm sorry," Stiles chokes out. "He texted me and I…" He sniffs in, wiping his eyes before they have a chance to tear up. "You can just leave me on the couch, I don't—"

Derek grabs him and pulls him in for a hug, holding him tight. "You'll be warmer next to me," he says into Stiles' hair.

Stiles will not cry—and he doesn't. Not even when Derek kisses his forehead before he falls asleep.

**XxX**

_October 28, Monday (10:06 AM)…_

Derek is still asleep when Stiles wakes up, and he's happy to see that the man has his work schedule written up on his calendar so Stiles knows not to wake him (he's got the late night shift tonight, so he'll be there for the stocking/organizing/cleaning hours.)

He slips out of the bed as slowly as he can, heading into the bathroom. Cora's door is shut as well, and Stiles knows that he's not going to be able to fall back asleep, so he just grabs up a random book in the living room and plunks onto the couch with a blanket draped over the back.

He's there for about an hour before Derek's bedroom door opens, going straight into the bathroom without seeing Stiles there. He sees him when he comes out next, though, a sad little smile on his face.

"How was Deucalion's?" he asks.

Stiles huffs, memorizing the page he's on and then closing the book. "Guess."

"I don't have to. You were crying in your sleep."

Stiles blushes a little bit, looking away. "Oh."

Derek sits down beside him and pulls him against him for a sideways hug. "Did you sleep alright?"

Stiles nods, setting the book aside and draping against him. "Why were you up at five in the morning?"

"I was peeing, actually."

Stiles smiles a little. "Looks like I do have perfect timing."

"Yeah," Derek whispers. "You do. I have something for you."

Stiles frowns. "What?"

"Just some papers… I was talking to my manager and—"

Stiles' eyes widen. "Are you trying to get me a job?"

Derek sighs, looking away. "I told you how you could do it, remember? Deucalion could still have you on Sunday's and—"

"Derek, is it really that simple? Because I'm twenty-two years old without previous work experience. That's not a good thing to write down."

Derek purses his lips. "I may or may not have told said manager that you're trying to get out of the club."

Stiles cringes a little bit. "Great, now my possible future employer is gonna know I've professionally worked a pole before."

"She used to be in it too, Stiles. She knows how hard it is to get out of it."

Stiles' eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods. "She told us all about it at a meeting one time. It makes us respect her more, knowing that she got up to where she is from a job that most people look down on."

Stiles sighs, looking away. "I could apply, I suppose. Worse case they don't hire me—or they do and then I get fired."

Derek smiles. "Don't move."

He comes back a moment later, a packet of papers and a pen in hand. He grabs up Stiles' book for a hard surface, and then he's helping him fill everything out, writing available times and schooling all that good stuff.

"I'll take this in for you when I go tonight," he says.

"What are you going to be doing all day?"

Derek shrugs. "Cleaning. Budget. Bills. All that fun stuff that comes with living."

"Is Cora still asleep?"

At that they hear a door open, and out come two giggling voices.

"Shh, shh, you'll wake him," Isaac's voice whispers around laughter.

"It's okay," Cora says, "he likes you, he'll—oh!"

Cora and Isaac freeze at the sight of Stiles and Derek on the couch.

Stiles grins. "Looks like it's _my_ turn to bombard you guys with questions."

Cora breaks into another fit of giggles as Isaac buries his face against her back. "Looks like we're one big family now," Cora says, pulling Isaac over to sit on the other end of the couch. "And yes, Derek, we used protection."

Derek has his face scrunched up at Isaac anyway. "You could have asked."

Isaac cowers a little bit. "Sorry."

Cora reaches around Stiles to punch Derek in the shoulder. "Lay off, I like him."

"She'll be fine," Stiles says, patting Derek's shoulder where he was hit. "Isaac's good."

"Good in bed, that's for sure," Cora says.

Derek groans, standing up. "All of you get out of here and go practice whatever you do at Lydia's or something."

All three of the strippers giggle as they stand, moving to gather up what things they have to leave. Stiles finds Derek in his room before they leave, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

"Thanks for last nigh—er, this morning," he says.

Derek smiles, turning around in his arms and hugging him back. "I know you don't have much of a choice when it comes to Deucalion. It's fine."

"I just want you. You know that, right?"

It looks like the breath catches in Derek's throat a little bit. "I do now," he says.

Stiles kisses him hard, and just before he's walking out, Derek grabs him back to put his leather jacket around his shoulders.

"You look good in it," he says softly.

So Stiles kisses him again before he really does leave, rolling his eyes at the grins that Isaac and Cora are giving him.

"Keep staring at me and I'll ask what position you guys used," he says.

Each of them burst into details simultaneously. Stiles loves his friends.


	6. Chapter 6

[Chapter summary: In which Stiles performs Ke$ha and Derek gets to be his boyfriend.]

**Chapter 6**

Quick note: So that scene where Stiles was dancing to the Arctic Monkey song? There's going to be another, but this time he's actually singing. Anyway, if any of you have read my On Request multiple pairing Avenger's fic then the whole dancing/singing scene is gonna be super familiar XD ALSO, the guy that I'm naming Logan is supposed to be Danny's first apparently douchey ex-boyfriend from canon season 2.

* * *

_3 Days Later  
__October 31, Thursday (5:41 PM)…_

"Here," Lydia says, coming out of nowhere to pop up beside Stiles in the changing room. "This is what you're wearing."

Stiles gives her filled arms a wrinkled-nose look. "What is it?"

She grins. "You're singing Ke$ha, right? You've got to look the part."

Stiles groans. Yes, he's actually going to be singing tonight. He's kind of terrified, but he'll get over it.

It takes a long time—a _long_ time—but Stiles is eventually in the dreaded Ke$ha outfit. He knows that his show name is Kitten, but most of the strippers here tonight are going to end up in their costumes and covered in paint powder and glitter. Stiles is going to be dancing/singing to the Gold Trans Am song, and at the guitar solo part Isaac is going to be in a guitar costume (he looks like a complete idiot, but at least he's getting paid for it) and Stiles gets to play him. It's the dumbest idea ever, but he loves it.

Stiles himself has got on a pair of weird leather underwear things over shiny gold tights (he's goin' it Superman tonight) with a faint pattern of leopard print, and his top _was_ a simple black shirt until Lydia mangled it in all sorts of creative ways, with tears all through the front and back like claw marks and also tears down the side so that the shirt is held together by only a couple inches of fabric. He's got on the same ballet-like combat boots that he wore when he sang the Arctic Monkeys, plus the fingerless biker gloves.

His hair is usually styled up in the front, but now it's more like a point than the wave-like wall, plus gold spray right at the tip. His eyebrows are gold as well, but everything else make-up related is silver: eye shadow, eye liner, fingernails, lipstick (he fucking hates lipstick), and even some tear-like streaks coming down from his right eye—well, the left eye if you're looking straight at him. He doesn't have his ears pierced, but Lydia rigged up a long feather earrings connected to a thin chain to twist around it so that it won't fall up when he's head-banging.

Stiles wrinkles his nose up at the mirror he's in front of. "Is this _really_ what you want me to look like?"

"It's a combination of Ke$ha outfits," she says, "so yes."

Cora giggles from where she's curling her hair for tonight's wolf look. "You look terrible."

"I think he looks _awesome_," a new voice says.

Stiles whips his head around with a giant grin, thrilled to see his best friend. "You came!"

"Just for you, dude," Scott says, flicking the earring-free ear even though Lydia's trying to put an ear-piece on for his microphone. "And then we're leaving after your number. We're not here for strippers." He grins at everyone. "We're taken, after all."

Isaac suddenly appears, an open-mouthed smile on his face. "Scott!" he yells in his guitar outfit, throwing his arms around him. "I missed you!"

Scott laughs, throwing an arm around Isaac's shoulders and scuffing up his hair (they don't usually do anything to it; people dig the curls, after all). "Isaac, my man! You look…good, I think."

Allison grins, leaning down beside Stiles. "You really do look great, Stiles. It's a bit excessive, but that's Ke$ha, right?"

He grins. "Thanks."

"I told you," Lydia says, going to give Allison a hug as well. "You look great."

"Also terrible," Cora says, flitting a wrist.

"Alright, enough," Erica says in her leopard look and neon green contacts and still somehow giving everyone a dark look. "Stiles is on in a few minutes and we all need to get up into position."

Stiles stares out into the darkness of the room thirty seconds before he's got to start. He takes a deep breath. This is it. He's going to be singing tonight. On Halloween. And he's dressed up as Ke$ha. Of course Scott and Allison are going to be taking pictures… Derek is out there somewhere, too, no doubt terrified to find out what Stiles is going to be doing. Nobody told him, after all, and he doesn't come early for practices. It's going to be a complete surprise.

As soon as Stiles is signaled he clicks on his mic, followed by the girliest giggle that he can manage.

"_This song makes me wanna…have sex in my car._"

He's perfected that weird off-moan that she gives, too, and then the lights are flashing on, showing of the crazy fucked-up outfit that Lydia put him in as he jumps through the curtains.

_"Wham! Bam! Thank you, man  
Get inside my fuckin'  
Gold Trans Am!_

_Wham! Bam! Thank you, man  
Get inside my fuckin'  
Gold Trans Am!"_

He laughs and flips forward, bounding rip back off of his hands and then landing on his feet with his legs spread. He learned a bunch of moves from Erica to make sure he dances as obscenely as he can, dragging his hands around his body and bending around to show off exactly how much he's packing.

_"Pull over sucker  
Now spread 'em  
Let me see what you're packin'  
Inside that denim  
Pedal to the metal  
Lookin' straight amazin'  
I can't help all the hell  
That I'm raisin'!"  
_  
That's when the other dancers all come out, Erica and some others dressed up like leopards and Heather and some others in nothing but glittering silver, spinning their ways across the stage and singing the back-up vocals.  
Stiles grins at them, pulling in a deep breath for the next words:

_"Stoppin' traffic like  
An ambulance  
Try'na get my hands  
In your worn down pants."  
_  
One of the dancers spins over to him, smaller than Stiles but nearly twice as filled out in muscle and brawn. Stiles already thinks that he's got some pretty broad shoulders, but this guy is downright impressive. Stiles leans on his shoulder with an elbow, giving him a once over but still facing the crowd for the show.

_"Hey you, skinner  
t-shirt tight  
Baby, need…"_

He tilts his head in a seductive smile that has some of the people around him widen their eyes.

_"…a ride?  
I'm the captain of this ship so  
Shut up and get inside."  
_  
He spins away from the "skinner", but in the process that guy has his hands holding firmly to Stiles shirt, and as the distance between them grows, Stiles' already torn shirt rips completely off of him, showing off the rest of his chest.

_"Come on climb into  
My golden cockpit  
Love you till you're seeing  
Stars and stripes!_

_Burning rubber on the  
Southern highway  
Gonna take you for a  
Freedom ride!"_

That's when even more dancers come out, all of these ones dressed in nothing but gold. They're pushing from behind and pulling from the front via a golden rope a miniature trans am, also gold, just like the song.

Stiles ignores it at first, continuing to sing:

_"Wham! Bam! Thank you, man  
Get inside my fuckin'  
Gold Trans Am!_

_Wham! Bam! Thank you, man  
Get inside my fuckin'  
Gold Trans Am!"  
_  
Another dancer spins over to him, this one a little more rustic looking.

_"A sweet-ass mullet_  
_Caught my eye_  
_Now you got me jonesin'_  
_For a moustache ride_

_Twenty bucks and a_  
_Switchblade knife_  
_American metal_  
_With a devil inside"_

The other dancer spins away and Stiles starts making his way down the middle of the stage, grabbing a pole about halfway to the end and bending around it like his backbone is completely void.

_"Daisy Dick, showin'  
Off my ass  
And when I walk past  
Give the boys whiplash!_

_Hey you, skinner_  
_Tony-shirt tight_  
_Baby, need…a ride?_

_I'm the captain of this ship so_  
_Shut up and get inside!"  
_  
He spins off of the pole, sliding back up a ways on his knees before flipping up mid-slide and landing just in front of the miniature car.

_"Come on climb into  
My golden cockpit!"  
_  
He leaps into it, bending down to show off his ass a bit. It's a good thing he's getting paid well for this.

_"Love you till you're seeing  
Stars and stripes!"  
_  
He swings back up and around with an American flag raised above his head that he grabbed out of the car, waving it once before flinging it to the side, where it's caught by another of the dancers who tucks one corner into the back of his pants to wear it like a tail.

Stiles, on the other hand, as he's still singing, is slowly sinking inside of the "car". It doesn't really have a seat at all and is just wide enough for two people to go down into the hole of the stage (this is a nice place, okay; they could do magic shows here or something).

_"Burning rubber on the  
Southern highway"  
_

Once down at the bottom so that nobody can see him anymore he's still singing, but Isaac is there, standing beside Stiles with both arms around his neck and one leg wrapped around his waist.

_"Gonna take you for a  
Freedom ride!"  
_  
He and Isaac are all but spat back out, simultaneously flipping through the air to land in front of the mini car. Obviously he's not really playing Isaac (he can't play a real one either), but a lot of the crowd cheers anyway at the epic guitar solo. As he drags his hand down Isaac's chest for the last note of the guitar, a bunch of the backup dancers/singers yell around at each other.

_"Come on!"  
"Get inside!"  
"Get inside!"  
_  
Then Stiles breaks out again (while Isaac is spinning away from him and back down the hole under the car), eyes shut and jaw wide as he gets into the song as much as any popular artist would:

_"Freedom riiiide!"  
_  
Right as the last note is let out the stage all but explodes with paint powder, glitter, and party-fog spraying out in every color of the rainbow. Stiles and the others are absolutely drenched in it, so much so that Stiles actually questions to himself for a second whether or not that much was actually planned. When they practiced all the way through yesterday (not with costumes) they only had about half this much.

"Get inside!" is yelled from all of the backup dancers/singers again at once before Stiles continues on his own:

_"Come on climb into  
My golden cockpit  
Love you till you're seein'_

_Stars and stripes!_

_Burning rubber on the  
Southern highway  
Gonna take you for a  
Freedom ride!"  
_  
All of the backups yell again, this time joined by Stiles, all of them with one fist raised to the ceiling, and Stiles' head dropped back to expose his neck:

_"Get inside!"  
_  
The club absolutely _erupts_, the strippers not on the stage probably contributing to half of it. Stiles loves every last one of them to death even though he doesn't know all of their names. And when he straightens his neck out he sees none other than Derek clapping from the back, the biggest grinning smirk that Stiles has ever seen in his entire life on his face.

Stiles grins widely as the lights dim out and everyone moves to get back behind the curtains, ready to go change into their usual outfits.

"That was _awesome_!" Scott and Allison both scream as they come back downstairs while Stiles is changing, Allison with an expensive looking camera in hand.

"Totally awesome," Scott repeats. "I really want to put these on Facebook but I won't," he says. "We'll put them into the scrapbook we've got, though."

"We've got an entire section on you," Allison says with a smile.

Stiles grins at them both. "You have no idea how much I love both of you. I'd hug you, but I'd get powder and glitter all over you."

Scott and Allison give him huge hugs anyway, but Stiles pulls away in the middle of it when he sees Derek come down the stairs. He grins and flits over to him, letting Derek swing him up and into his arms before kissing him hard.

"You're amazing," he says, setting him back down.

"Aren't I?" Stiles asks, spinning towards his locker to change.

Scott frowns a little. "Who's this?" he asks.

Stiles grins at him and Allison. "You guys have met Cora, right?"

They nod.

"Well, this is her older brother. They're also Peter's nephews."

Allison's eyes widen. "Wow, really? They've all got really great jaw lines."

Stiles smirks over at where Cora is kissing Isaac and then to Derek. "Hear that? You have great jaw lines."

Derek rolls his eyes, holding his hand out to them. "Derek Hale."

"Scott McCall and Allison Argent," Allison says, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Are you guys dating or something?" Scott asks Stiles.

Stiles and Derek both stare each other at a few seconds, searching for answers in each others eyes. "Sort of," Stiles eventually says. "I still do street work. Except that I just applied to the grocery store that he works at, so it might not be for that much longer."

Both Scott and Allison's jaws drop. "Really?" Scott asks. "That's great!"

"No more Deucalion, then?" Allison asks. "Because he's really creepy."

"He pays me. Besides, he's not as creepy as Matt."

Allison shudders a little bit. She apparently went to high school with the guy and he was always taking picture of her with the excuse that he was part of the yearbook. Turns out he was just taping most of them to his bedroom walls.

"So you guys are sort of dating, then?" Scott asks, looking up at Derek.

Stiles nods. "Yup." He looks over at Derek. "Go back upstairs and order me an ice water, would you? And whatever you want. Tell them that Stiles ordered it and you'll get it free. I've got a few minutes break after that, so I can sit with you a bit."

Derek nods, moving to disappear up the stares. He glares at Isaac the tiniest bit, but Stiles will fix that up soon enough.

Scott yanks Stiles over for another hug. "I love you."

Stiles laughs, shoving him away—except that he's instantly hugged by Allison. "He's so pretty."

Another laugh and shove and he's free, walking towards one of three showers with what he's going to put on in a little basket so he doesn't get any paint powder on it. All of the showers are currently full, so he just knocks on the side of one and steps into it with none other than the guy that helped him up when he tripped after dancing to the Arctic Monkeys.

"Are you guys just gonna head out now?" Stiles asks as the guy hands him the soap.

"We're gonna stay for a drink and then we are," Scott says from outside the curtain. "Do you want any of the pictures we've taken?"

"Eh, not really."

"We'll see you around, then!" Allison says.

"Bye!"

As Stiles is washing off his hair, he looks up at the guy showering beside him. "Do I have anymore gold in my hair?"

"A bit," he says, reaching up to Stiles' hair to get it out.

"Thanks."

"It's your reward for not tripping this time when you walked off the stage."

Stiles snorts a little, going back to the powder on his arms and chest. It washes off pretty good, but he's got to make sure there isn't anything sticking in weird places. He's glad that he didn't get any below his waist since he had the tights and "boots" on. "Thanks for that, too. What's your name, anyway?"

"Logan," he says. "And I know that you're Stiles. Lydia talks about you a lot."

Stiles grins. "Yeah, we've been friends for a while now."

"How'd you meet her, anyway?"

"We went to high school together. We lost touch for a while, but she's dating this guy I'm going to college with and we happened to run into each other, so that's why I'm here some nights."

"You're out on the streets, right?"

Stiles purses his lips and nods. "I just applied to the local grocery store, but who knows."

"Yeah, I heard. Good luck, man."

Stiles nods as Logan starts to get out. "Thanks, dude."

Once he's finished cleaning himself off he gets out to dry off, sitting down at one of the mirrors to blow dry his hair and then grab up some make-up removers to get the waterproof mascara and eyeliner that are currently in tiny little smudges on his face.

"Oh my god, Stiles," Caitlin says as she sits down beside him. "Put some clothes on."

Stiles huffs, grabbing up a black thong from his pile of clothes. "Clothes are stupid."

Eventually he's all dressed back up, hair in his usual wave and make-up all fixed back up. He's still got quiet a few hours of work left. He's in another of the new outfits that Lydia got him (a leopard print cat-suit; even _he_ thinks his dick looks big in this thing), and the guys here don't wear heels, so he just puts the combat "boots" back on (they're just black anyway) before pulling up black gloves with claws sown in (he doesn't feel like gluing anything on tonight) and the cat ears. He scrunches his nose up a bit to make the whiskers look like they're wiggling on his cheeks, and then he's heading up the stairs, going out into the seating area of the club to look for Derek.

He finds him in the back (as usual) and plops down beside him, wishing that he could wiggle his ears a little. "Miss me."

"Immensely," he says, pushing a glass of ice water over to him.

Stiles chugs half of it. "Thanks," he says, licking his lips.

Derek leans over and kisses him softly, one hand dropping down to a thigh and the other cupping itself around the back of Stiles neck. Stiles kisses him back hard, gripping onto the front of his dark red t-shirt and licking inside of his mouth.

Derek pulls away a second later, eyes quizzical. "Did you just…purr?"

Stiles realizes that his hum sounded like one, so he does it again, leaning back in. "Possibly."

Derek laughs, sliding the hand on Stiles' neck down to his waist. "I hate cats," he whispers (or whispers as much as he can and still be heard of the music, anyway; it's always loudest on Halloween), "but you're seriously making me think about changing my mind."

Stiles grins, showing off the fake teeth that he's got.

"I was wondering what my tongue was hitting," Derek says, noticing them.

Stiles chuckles a little. "The zipper on this thing leads right down between my legs," he says, staring into Derek's jade green eyes. "Shame you can't pull it down right here."

Derek swallows, jaw tight. "It's a good thing that tented jeans are an acceptable thing at strip clubs."

Stiles tilts his head to look under the table at Derek's lap before leaning back up and laughing. "I love you," he says, grabbing up his glass of water and finishing it. When he sets it back down, Derek is giving him a wide-eyed look. Stiles frowns. "What's wrong?"

Derek kisses him again, wrapping both arms around his waist. "Nothing," he says. "Do you want more water?"

Stiles tilts his head a little, but then gives an internal shrug and drops the topic. "No, I'll get a side ache. I should get back to work, too. Are you going to stay home or go back home to sleep?"

"That depends if you're coming with me tonight."

Stiles smirks a little, leaning forward until his mouth is at Derek's ear. "I think we should send Isaac and Cora to my place tonight," he whispers, "because I want you to fuck me in every corner of yours."

Derek shudders a little bit, dropping a hand to grip tightly at Stiles' thigh again. "I want to taste you," he whispers back, voice heavy.

Stiles chuckles and leans away. "You'll have to wait," he says, "because I still have to work."

Derek jumps up at that, grabbing one of Stiles' hands and dragging him towards…the bathrooms.

Stiles grins, but he really does need to work. "Derek, I—"

Derek pushes him into a stall. "Shh," he says even though the bathroom is empty. "Just one taste."

Stiles stops arguing when Derek's hand paws at him through his cat-suit, and then his other hand is dragging down the zipper until it stops, letting coal air wash over Stiles' skin. Derek kisses him hard before dragging a pathway down Stiles' body with his tongue, continuing it's at Stiles' cock.

"This," Derek says, pulling away a few minutes later and tugging at the side of Stiles' suit. A few people have come inside the bathroom, but Stiles is just extra careful to stay quiet at those times. "This, down. I want more."

Stiles complies, shrugging out of it and letting Derek tug it down until the entire thing is shoved down to his ankles. Stiles is very glad that nobody is in the bathroom at that time, because the moan that escapes from his throat is not quiet. Derek smirks at him a little from where he's sucking on one of Stiles' balls, hands not even having to hold his cock out of the way because it's just up at his stomach.

When Stiles comes into Derek's throat it's a long, groaning moan that makes his entire body shake, and Derek just licks up every last drop, not letting a single one escape. He pulls the suit back up to where Stiles can reach at it when he stands up, kissing him softly. Stiles has never been a huge fan of the way his own come tastes, but kissing Derek is totally worth it.

"_Now_ you have to work," Derek says, zipping the suit up for him.

Stiles nods, swallowing. "I'm going to need some more water."

Derek laughs, pulling him close to kiss his forehead. "My jacket is down in your locker, right?"

Stiles nods and rattles off the combination. It's never actually locked because the strippers here have the perfect amount of unity to know that stealing stuff when they're all fucked just isn't cool, but just in case.

And then he goes back to work, staring directly into Derek's eyes every chance that he gets.


	7. Chapter 7

[Chapter summary: In which Ennis takes a dive, Kali has a gun, Derek has a baseball bat, Deucalion has excellent hearing, and Stiles has a father.]

**Chapter 7**

Quick note: The manager of the grocery store, Shayla Marks, is the girl waaaay back from the very first episode of season 1 that Stiles was talking to about "why Allison is already in with Lydia's clique on the first day of school". I just made her name up. Also this chapter has a whole bunch of breaks at first, but it'll ease up.

* * *

_November 1, Friday (8:27 PM)…_

Stiles wakes up the next morning to the generic ringtone that he chose for his phone, snatching it up and answering it with a tired hello at the same time that he swings out of Derek's bed and quick flits out to get into the kitchen, which is as far away from Derek's room as he can be.

"Yes, hello," a polite, female voice says into Stiles' ear. "Is this Stiles Stilinski?"

Stiles frowns. "This is he."

Stiles proceeds to have a near panic attack when the woman, Shayla Marks, reveals that she's the manager at Derek's grocery store and that she wants him to come over for an interview at his "next convenience". When he hangs up he's got one scheduled for November second—tomorrow—at one o'clock in the afternoon.

Stiles doesn't care that Derek is still asleep at eight-thirty in the morning, he bounds into the room and jumps onto the bed to crawl over Derek and bury his face into his neck. Derek wakes with a start, shoving Stiles over before quick grabbing him back.

"What are you doing?" he asks, kissing his forehead. "You gave me a heart attack."

"Guess who I just got a call from," Stiles says, grinning widely.

Derek frowns. "Cora telling you that Peter walked in on her and Isaac?"

"Guess again."

Derek blinks at him for a few minutes before his eyes widen. "Shayla called you?"

Stiles gives an enthusiastic nod. "I have an interview at one on Friday!"

Derek throws his arms around him and pulls him down for a kiss, holding him tight against him. "I told you it would work," he whispers.

"Nearly," Stiles says. "I haven't gotten the job yet."

"You'll get the job, Stiles."

"I still can't stop right away, though. Deucalion wouldn't let me. He'd take me in even _if_ I quit it."

Derek gives a sad little look at that. "That's okay," he says. "I said myself that you don't have to quit cold turkey. Just…ease it in to him."

"It's not that simple wi—"

"With him, I know. We'll figure it out. We'll talk to him—I'll even talk to him with you. He likes you, so maybe…" He trails off. "Maybe not."

"Maybe what?"

"I was going to say that maybe he'd be okay with it since he likes you, but that's not how Deucalion works, so probably not."

Stiles nods. "I know, it's a shame. Do you have any plans today?"

"Not until work."

"Well, I have to be at the college by eleven-thirty, but that's enough time to watch a short movie."

Derek nods, swinging out of bed.

"On second thought…" Stiles says, leaning up on his knees to wrap his arms around Derek's neck. "Let's watch a movie later."

Derek grins back at him. "For someone who's sick of sex, you sure love it."

"I don't love just any sex," Stiles says, pulling him back. "I love _your_ sex."

Derek hums, pulling Stiles down. "Good. Keep it that way."

Stiles grins. "I plan to."

**XxX**

_November 2, Saturday (2:07 PM)…_

Stiles' knees feel weak as he's walking away from his interview. He got it.

"Hey," Derek says from out of nowhere, instantly wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist and tugging him over to a booth in the food court, even sitting down on the same side. "Are you okay?"

Stiles swallows tightly. "I think I'm going to grow up."

Derek moves his arm up to his neck and pulls him in for a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"No," Stiles says, pulling away. "No, that's not it."

Derek frowns. "I'm confused."

Stiles breathes a little laugh. "I want to throw up because I got it. I got the job."

Derek laughs, pulling Stiles back against him. "I knew you got it!" he says, kissing the top of his head. "When do you start?"

"Monday."

He nods, scooting away. "Well, I'm still on, so I gotta get back to work. Will you come over tonight?"

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Why don't you ever go to my place?"

"Because Peter doesn't make fun of Cora like he does me."

Stiles laughs. "That's a good reason."

**XxX**

_2 Days Later  
November 4, Saturday (10:02 AM)…_

Stiles pulls in a deep breath, standing in front of 5A. He knows it's going to be better to tell Deucalion now than let him find out on his own.

Ethan opens the door, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "Oh, hey," he says. "Deucalion isn't here."

Stiles frowns. "Oh. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"No, actually. Nobody else is here, either." He steps out, closing the door behind him. "Uh…Cora and I were talking yesterday, and…" He purses his lips. "She's got some stuff together for us, but it's not a full fledged plan at this point. We're going to need your help with some things."

Stiles nods fervently. "Yeah, anything."

He nods. "Good. Just talk to Cora for what she's got, okay? She knows it better than Aiden and I do."

"Have you told Danny yet?"

He sighs. "I told him that we had some stuff, but that it's not all finalized yet. Cora still needs to get some more specifics."

"Yeah, alright. Anyway, tell Deucalion to call me, okay?"

"Yeah, definitely. What's going on?"

Stiles grins. "I got a real job."

Ethan gapes at him. "Really? Where?"

"Grocery store. I'm still at the club on Saturday's, and Sunday's are soon going to be dedicated to your boss. I don't know how much longer until I'm out of it completely, but…" He shrugs. "Hopefully soon."

Ethan smiles. "Ditto. I'll see you around."

Stiles nods. "Definitely."

He lets himself into Derek's place once Ethan closes the door on him, smiling at where Isaac is splayed out on the floor.

"Cora already told me the plan, if you want to know it now," he says.

"_First_ I want to know how you two are doing," Stiles says, dropping down beside him.

Isaac gives one of those angelic smiles he saves for very special people. "I think I'm falling in love with her, Stiles."

Stiles grins widely. "That's awesome!" He leans over to kiss the top of his head. "She doesn't beat you up, does she?"

"One time she knocked my legs out from under me, but now she's teaching me street fighting, so I forgave her."

Stiles laughs. "She did that to me, too, back on the first night that I stayed over here."

Isaac grins. "I'm glad she did. We probably wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't stayed over like you did."

Stiles nods, warmth spreading through his chest. "No, probably not."

**XxX**

_November 5, Saturday (1:07 AM)…_

Stiles' phone rings at one in the morning, and Stiles quick swings over Derek and darts out into the living room to answer it.

"Deucalion, hey."

"Come out here please, Stiles. I won't keep you long."

"Yeah, give me three seconds to put pants on."

Stiles grabs up Isaac's jeans from the couch (that kid always leaves his clothes everywhere) and shoves them on before stepping out into the hallway, closing the door so that it's just him and Deucalion.

"Did Ethan tell you?" he asks.

"He only said that you stopped by," Deucalion says, "but I have a feeling that I know."

Stiles sighs. "I haven't _stopped_ yet, okay? I'm totally still free on Sunday's. But I want to be _free_, Duke! I know that you've always wanted me for yourself, but you've got to have figured out that even if I _was_ still doing it full-time I wouldn't give in. I've _seen_ the drugs that your five do, and I don't want them."

Deucalion raises an eyebrow. "Not even the bike?"

"The bike isn't a drug."

He sighs. "Well, Stiles, I'm sorry to hear all of this. I'll see you on Sunday, won't I?"

"Of course," Stiles says fervently. "Definitely. Every Sunday that you want."

The man smiles, milky white eyes crinkling oddly. "Good. Sleep well, Stiles."

Stiles nods, pushing open the door to 5B. "G'night, Duke."

Stiles lets out a huge, happy breath once he's inside. That went so easy! Almost too easy, but in an "I don't think he's _that_ mad" kind of way. Even if he is mad, Stiles is still happy. He's almost free, after all. He's so close…

**XxX**

_7 Days Later  
November 12, Tuesday (9:57 PM)…_

Stiles whistles to himself as he steps into Derek's place after work, ready for a good night sleep after all his hours this week. He and Derek overlapped for a few of them, but they're always in different sections, so it's kind of pointle—

"Oh my _god_," he hisses, noticing Derek on the couch. He has a black eye, a bruise on his cheek, and a thin gash on his jaw.

"Don't ask," he mumbles.

"I am totally asking," Stiles says, sitting down beside him. "What happened?"

Derek sighs. "Cora and I, after I got off work."

"Yup!" Cora says as she walks into the room. "Beat each other up pretty good." She herself has a cut under her eye, bruises on _both_ cheeks, and bruised knuckles.

But Stiles knows better. Even if they did get into a fight, Derek would _never_ hit his sister in the face. _Ever_. "I'm going to kill him," he snarls, jumping back up.

"Stiles, no!" Derek says, jumping after him.

Stiles ignores him. "I am literally going to murder him."

Derek grabs him just as he gets into the hall, trying to pull him back.

"Deucalion, you bastard!" he screams, hoping the man is actually there today.

"Stiles, it's okay!" Cora says, helping drag him back. "We got them too, it's okay!"

But Deucalion opens the door anyway, so Stiles gets out of their grips ad stops up to his face. "You bastard!" he yells again. "You're taking your anger out on _them_? They didn't do _anything_! Even if I hadn't met them I would have gotten out of most of it _anyway_!"

Deucalion folds his hands together. "Calm down, Stiles."

"Calm _down_? You're telling me to _calm down_? You had my…my boyfriend and his sister beat up because _I_ pissed you off? You think that's going to make it _better_ for you, that I'll give a shimmy on over to partner up with you in bed and be a part of your _pack_? You fucking—"

Derek grabs him back again at that, just barely keeping Stiles from trying to punch Deucalion square in the face. "Let me at him!" he snarls. "I'm going to _slaughter_ him!"

Derek shushes him.

"You're going to get the neighbors involved," Cora hisses.

"I don't care!" Stiles snaps, kicking to get out of Derek's arms. "Get me a fucking baseball bat, dammit!"

Deucalion gives him a steady look, as he always does. "If it makes you feel any better, Stiles, I didn't order any of it. Ennis, Kali, and Matt attacked on their own."

"Then I'll murder _them_!" he growls. "I'll—"

"Ennis is dead, Stiles."

Stiles instantly stops, letting Derek slowly set him down. "He's what?" he whispers.

Deucalion blinks once. "Why don't you ask your _boyfriend_ and his sister?"

Stiles turns around, staring at the two Hale's. "Ennis is dead?" he asks, voice cracking. He didn't like Ennis. Never did. But he didn't want him _dead_."

"He's dead," Cora says quietly.

Stiles swallows tightly. "What happened?"

"He fell."

"From _where_?"

"The roof," Derek says. "He, Kali, and Matt brought us up there, but we fought back. He landed on the lid of the trash bin at the bottom before rolling off."

"There wasn't even any blood," Cora says. "He just…hit hard enough in the right spot."

Stiles gapes at them. "You fought back by _pushing him_ to his _death_?"

"It was an accident, Stiles!" Cora says. "Derek fell too, but he managed to get a hold of the edge and I helped pull him back up when Kali and Matt ran down for him. We don't know what happened afterwards."

"And the police didn't show up?" Stiles hisses.

"Why would the police show up for a missing prostitute?" Deucalion asks. "As far as they know he never even existed."

Stiles whips to face him. "_Another_ reason why I don't want to be a part of your pack! You treat all of them like they're _worthless_! The only reason you buy them whatever they want is so they don't try to leave!" He steps back in front of him. "Where did you put him, Duke? Where are Kali and Matt?"

"Matt is currently out on our little side business, and Kali is…fabricating a story."

Stiles frowns. "A story? For _what_?"

At that very second the elevator door dings, and it slides open to reveal a crying Kali and two police officers—one of them Stiles knows semi-personally for the fact that he's Scott's _ex_-dad, Rafael. He and Scott haven't talked since the divorce between him and his mom. Rafael himself has been trying to land Stiles for his night life for about a year now.

"You three," Rafael says, pointing at Stiles, Derek, and Cora with dark eyes. "Back into your home; there's nothing to see out here."

Stiles frowns at Deucalion. "You brought him _here_?" he hisses.

"Ennis died in his bedroom during the day," Deucalion says, hands still folded. "It was from a heroin overdose." He looks over at Rafael. "We didn't even know he was drugs. He hid it very well."

"Save the story for the books, Simmons," Rafael says darkly. "I'm going to have to take all of you in for questioning." He holds up paper. "I've got warrants for everything, including to search the entire condo."

Aiden and Ethan both poke their heads out at that, eyes wide. "Why do you get one of those?" Aiden asks.

"Yeah, we didn't know!" Ethan says. "We swear!"

"It's a drugs bust, you two," he says, and then turns back to Stiles, Derek, and Cora. "Get back into your condo, you three. This isn't for public eyes."

Stiles glares a little. "I think I have the right to know what goes on in my—"

"_Inside_, Stilinski," Rafael spits.

Stiles huffs, turning around. "You are such an asshole."

"Don't push me, Stiles!"

"You don't _make enough_ to push me." He slams the door before Rafael can say anything more, letting out a deep breath.

"You know him?" Derek asks.

"Yeah," Stiles says, rubbing both temples as he moves towards the couch. He's still in his grocery store uniform. "Rafael McCall is Scott's dad, but they haven't talked in…a lot of years. He's been trying to land me for a while now."

"Which is why you just made a prostitute reference?" Cora asks.

Stiles flits a wrist as he drops onto the couch. "No proof." He looks at Derek. "Is that story really going to hold?"

Cora shrugs, sitting down beside him. "We didn't see any blood, but who knows about other injuries. They'll probably just be able to pass it off as Ennis' knack for getting into fights."

Stiles looks over at where Derek is currently staring out of a window. "You were seriously hanging off the side of a building?"

He nods without looking over. "I would have fallen if Cora hadn't of helped me up. I'm not really sure how she managed to lift me like that."

"Adrenaline rush," Cora says, motioning Derek over. "Come on, come sit and cry with us."

"We're not crying," Stiles says.

"I know, shush."

Derek nods, dropping down onto Stiles' other side. Stiles instantly leans against him, knowing that Ennis' death was an accident.

"They've been waiting for a time that we're both out in the hall together," Cora says. "All three of them shoved us around until we got up there. We're not really sure why they chose that place—maybe they planned on killing us first. Who knows? I just know that I had to try and deck it out with Kali _and_ Matt since Ennis was keeping Derek pretty busy. Eventually they got to close and—slip!—they fell. Broad daylight, but nobody saw it since it happened in the alleyway. Crazy. Kali and Matt instantly ran off when it happened, and Derek and I watched them go out to his body down there before we ran back and hid in here."

"And all of this has happened _today_?" Stiles asks.

Cora nods. "Like I said, crazy."

Stiles looks over at Derek. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Derek says. "I never liked him anyway."

It's obvious that Derek is mostly just trying to convince himself, so Stiles presses a kiss to his cheek since the bruise is on the other side. "I'm sorry." He frowns, truly realizing that this is all his fault. He yelled about it to Deucalion, but… He stands up, stepping away. "Oh my god," he says. "I think I'm going to throw up."

Cora practically shoves him into the bathroom, just in time for him to vomit into the toilet.

"You're thinking too hard about it, dude," she says, rubbing his back.

"It's my fault," he chokes out. "If I hadn't of met you guys you wouldn't have been beaten up and Ennis wouldn't be dead."

"Don't you _dare_ turn this into that," Derek growls from the bathroom door. "This was not your fault. You would have gotten out of it some other way, just like you said, and then Ennis, Kali, and Matt would have beaten _you_ up—or maybe Deucalion would have pretended it was all okay by offering you a joint laced in who _knows_ what type of drugs because he knew that he couldn't get to you any other way. Then you'd have no other choice but to be a part of his pack so you could get your fix of whatever drug he got you addicted to. But instead you're here with us, and somebody who _deserves_ to be is dead—and if and when this all comes back to bite us in the asses, nothing is going to happen to us because it was all self-defense. Maybe a few things for you because they'd have to know about the selling, but nothing like the others are going to get."

"But what about Aiden and Ethan?" Stiles asks, bending into the sink to wash his mouth out. "They're going to get taken in for all of those drugs!"

"They're not going to find anything anywhere but Ennis' room, Stiles," Cora says, rubbing his back again. "Deucalion had all of this planned out the second that he heard about Ennis hitting the ground. People like Deucalion know where to hide things so that even the cops don't find them."

"Rafael's pretty good, though," Stiles says, twisting the sink off. "What if he does?"

"Stop worrying."

"Ennis is _dead_, Cora!"

"Would you rather have him alive?"

Stiles gives an aggravated sigh, pushing passed Derek to get out to the main room. "Yes, I would. Just because I didn't like him didn't mean that I wanted to get him killed. I need to go, okay? I've got to go back to my place and talk to Peter."

"Stiles," Derek says, soft. "Stay."

The voice breaks his heart, but Stiles shakes his head. "I can't, Derek. Deucalion isn't done with me yet, because now he knows I'm going to refuse him completely. I'm not going to let him bully me into things by using you two. I've got to fix this."

As Stiles steps out he sees Derek start to go after him, but Cora grabs his arm and whispers "let him go". So Stiles does, taking the stairwell four at a time.

He's got to fix this.

**XxX**

_3 Days Later  
November 15, Friday (9:38 PM)…_

Stiles doesn't see Derek or Cora for the next three days, and that includes at work. It's fine, too, since Stiles has had a lot of work to do. Forget bailing Aiden and Ethan out of Deucalion's pack; he'll just get Deucalion and Kali thrown into prison. He knows that Matt doesn't really give a shit about them all, so he can go free. But Kali does cocaine and Deucalion is a _lot_ of things, so he'll definitely land them.

He knows that they've all been let out of their questioning by now, Kali's fabricated story completely fallen for, but Stiles had Peter get Adrian Harris (the professor from hell) and Robert Finstock (his old, crazy gym professor from his freshman year at the college) so that all three of them could call in separately about some "risky business" within their numbers. The drugs bust already searched through and only found drugs in Ennis' room, but Stiles has always known where they keep everything else (which is why he was skeptical about the other stuff not being found). Stiles' plan is basically just to get Rafael back over so that he can tell him where all of their shit is kept, and Matt probably has maps of where to meet people for other deals and the like. It'll be easy.

Stiles is currently walking back to his place from work, ignoring the way his phone keeps telling him that he has unread text messages. He'll answer them later, but for now—

"One more step and you're dead."

Stiles freezes from where he's walking home after work. He's used to Kali's voice, but the obvious click of a gun is not exactly something that usually follows her around.

"Turn around _slow_."

Stiles does, hands at his sides. "What are you doing, Kali?" he asks. It's too dark to see them from a distance, and nobody else is around anyway.

"Giving you a choice," she growls. "Into the alleyway, kid."

Stiles moves carefully, just far enough in that Kali is just inside as well, gun pointed at his face.

"Wanna heart it?" she asks.

Stiles snorts. "Do I have any other choice?"

She grins evilly. "Option one, you quit your job, move into our place, and you never speak to a Hale again. We're down a man after _your_ boyfriend knocked mine off, so we need you for compensation. Option two…" She grins again. "I shoot you through the forehead, and I am a very good shot."

Stiles glares. "Deucalion would never let you do that."

"Unless Deucalion _told_ me to."

Stiles sucks in a breath. "Is there an option three, perchance?"

Kali starts to laugh, but suddenly, by some small miracle, a figure appears behind her, swinging out a baseball bat so hard that it shatters over her head in splinters.

"There it is," Derek says, dropping the broken handle. "Option three."

Stiles lets out an embarrassing little relieved sound, letting Derek pull him out of the alley.

"Are you okay?" he asks, grabbing Stiles' face lightly in his hands.

Stiles swallows tightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. What are you doing here? Did you follow me?"

"You're not the only one that's been working on this, Stiles. I overheard Deucalion and Kali talking about this. They _know_ that Aiden and Ethan are trying to get out, too."

Stiles lets out an aggravated sigh, but suddenly… He glances back at Kali's body, lying on the ground in a crumpled heap. Blood is pooling around her like somebody poured out a water bottle beside her. "Derek, oh my god," he chokes out. "Is she—"

"That's right, Stiles," Deucalion's voice rings out as he steps out from behind the dumpster in the alley. "Kali is dead too, again because of your _boyfriend_. Do you still trust him, you stupid boy?"

Stiles knows that Deucalion is trying to mindfuck him. He's _not_ stupid. "It was to save _me_, you monster!" Stiles snarls. He's about to dive-tackle him or something, but Derek grabs him back.

"He's got the gun, Stiles," he says.

Stiles snorts. "Who's stupid now, Duke? You're _blind_."

"Maybe," he says, smiling so that those milky white eyes crinkle up unpleasantly. "But my hearing is better than yours could ever hope to be."

Stiles knows that for a fact, so he swallows tightly, squeezing Derek's hand so he doesn't try anything.

Deucalion walks forward slowly, backing Stiles and Derek up until they're out on the road.

"Someone will hear it," Stiles says, trying to think of anything to get out of this. He and Derek could sprint in opposite directions, but Deucalion's aim is good too. He never fails to get a bull's-eye at the dartboard in his condo (which is completely creepy).

"Not in time to save you, though," Deucalion says. "All I've got to do is lie. It was self-defense, of course. You two attacked Kali and I killed to save my own skin."

Derek swings his jacket off. "It's all we've got," he whispers, so low that Stiles barely even hears it. He swings it around above his head, and just as Deucalion is re-cocking the gun he throws it forward so that it flops out over him.

It's the dumbest thing that Stiles has ever seen in his life, but it seems to work, so he and Derek sprint away as fast as they can—but to no avail. A gunshot rings out and Derek lets out a pained snarl, rolling to the ground.

Stiles skids to a halt and drops down beside him. "Don't make a sound," Stiles hisses into his ear. "He'll pass right over us."

Derek grits his teeth and yanks his shirt over his head, tying it around the spot that the bullet shot through on his calf. Deucalion chuckles evilly as he walks in their general direction, jacket lying on the concrete.

"So close, yet so far," he says, gun held too high to hit them if he shot now. "I know you're still here, Derek. I know the sounds that Stiles makes, and that wasn't one that would come after a bullet wound. Are you not going to let him run now, Derek? He might survive if you give yourself up for him. He knows how to get away from me when he really wants to." He grins. "Don't you, Stiles? You did it for a few months, after all. But you need me and all that money I give you. It doesn't matter what job you've got, you _belong_ on the streets."

Stiles covers Derek's mouth before he can say anything stupid, but before he gets to do anything equally stupid, an all new voice rings out from the darkness:

"DROP THE GUN, SIMMONS!"

Deucalion spins towards the voice, gun high. "Come any closer and I'll shoot you!"

"It's over, Deucalion!" the same voice yells. That voice… "We arrested Matt; he gave us everything!" Stiles _knows_ that voice…

Deucalion's eyes narrow, gun still high. Stiles can't find where the voice is no matter how hard he looks. "He would never," he growls.

"But he did, Simmons. He told us where all of the drugs are hidden and how Ennis actually died by falling off of that roof, and he told us about the choices that Stiles had tonight. It's _over_, Deucalion!"

Stiles can visibly see the way that Deucalion snaps, eyes practically blazing up into a milky white rage as he gives an angry roar and unloads bullets. But after only two his neck snaps backwards as a bullet from the other direction slams clean through his forehead, and he crumples to the ground in a similar heap that Kali is in, blood slowly pooling around him.

Stiles' ears are ringing and Derek is still gritting his teeth, leaning against him while he tries to ignore how much is leg probably hurts. Stiles stares in the direction that he heard that voice, everything flooding back to him as the man comes into view. He's got short brown hair, green eyes, and the usual police look.

Stiles' jaw drops. "Oh my god," he whispers. "Dad?"

Patrick Stilinski gives him a soft smile. "Hello, son."

Derek gives them both a wide-eyed look. "This is your _dad_?"

"Rafael called me in," Patrick says, jogging over to Deucalion and grabbing up the gun he dropped before moving over to where Stiles and Derek are. "I know it's been a long time, but we can catch up later. Right now we've got to get Derek here to the hospital. I've already called in for backup and ambulances. Things are going to get hectic fast, okay, and…" He sighs, looking at Derek. "I didn't get here in time to see what happened with Kali, so I can't vouch if it was self-defense or not, but I know that Stiles can't lie worth shit and he won't be able to dupe the detectors if it is. I'll be able to testify to what Deucalion said, and Stiles can say what all happened as well, but it's not exactly going to be the best thing since Ennis' death is involved as well. We've got Matt's whole testimony, and Cora is being brought in right now to see if they match up, and if Matt's story is true then the death isn't going to be a big deal at all. You were dangling up there, too, so you had just as much of a chance of a 'heroin overdose' as he did." He looks up as sirens come on in the distance. "Took 'em long enough. This city sure is slow."

Stiles finds himself laughing, flopping backwards onto the concrete. Derek gives him an odd look for a couple of seconds before just giving him a soft smile around the pain and reaching over to take his hand.

"I love you," he says.

Stiles grins, wiping away a tear. "I love you, too."

Patrick coughs awkwardly. "Like I said, we'll talk later. Get ready, boys."

Stiles swallows tightly. It's going to be a long, long night.


	8. Epilogue

[Chapter summary: In which everything is fixed, from money to family and everything in between.]

**Epilogue**

Quick note: I've never sat in on a self-defense murder case and wow I'm really bad at searching for details about it, so I'm not exactly sure how long a case like that would take (especially in this context with all this shit on the side). So! I'm just going to say it took about 4 months. I have nooo idea if that's WAY too little or WAY too much, but whatever! Just bear with it haha

* * *

_4 Months Later  
March 15, Saturday (10:26 PM)…_

They won. Stiles, Derek, and Cora won. Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis are dead, Matt is in prison, Aiden and Ethan are in an every other day rehab groups (different ones since they have different addictions; Ethan's decided to stop smoking cigarettes before it gets worse). Derek got off free even though he and Cora allowed for the heroin overdose lie to be carried on, and Stiles gets completely let go for his night life since one, they have no proof and two, he's currently got a supporting job.

Shayla understood everything too, keeping both Stiles and Derek in at work when they could be. Obviously they hardly made anything in the four months with all the trials and questioning and the like, but that was all fixed up when Stiles, Derek, Cora, Aiden, and Ethan literally got to split _every penny and object_ that Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis owned. Stiles knew that Deucalion was packing, but he had no idea _how_ much money he was seriously making (he has no idea why they're letting them have illegally made money, but he's definitely not questioning it). He's got more than he would have made in those four months now anyway, including Ennis' drop dead gorgeous motorcycle. Cora took Kali's, Derek gets the one that they were sharing, and of course Aiden and Ethan get to keep their own. All of Matt's things are going into storage since he's still alive.

And that's only the half of it. Stiles learned that his dad has been keeping tabs on his the moment he moved out thanks to Rafael's updates, so he's known about the nightlife and strip clubs and college since the very start—and that includes high school, which is why he was always telling Stiles to come down to the station and see if he could get a job there. Rafael called him about the whole thing and he came right down to do everything he could to save his sons life once and for all. So here he is now, numbers and addresses exchanged so that they can catch up like a real family. Stiles is a little ashamed about the whole thing, but at least he _does_ have another job and he doesn't have to explain to his dad that he's _currently_ being paid for the streets.

He still goes into Lydia's club on Saturday nights, but that's okay. Aiden and Ethan do as well now that they can stay, and it's actually kind of funny how much they love doing it—almost more than Lydia. Danny goes more often now, which is nice since he and Ethan can stay together. Danny lives with Jackson (and the occasional Lydia), but now Ethan has moved in as well. Aiden is just staying up in the club, and he has the cutest, most obvious crush on Heather that Stiles has ever seen in his entire life. Stiles and Isaac move officially in with Derek and Cora, and Boyd and Erica actually leave Boyd's apartment to move in with Peter so that they've all got someone to split the rent with.

Derek's leg is all healed up now, so it's easy for Stiles to swing up into his arms after he does a solo-show up on the stage at the club. He kisses him hard, and Scott and Allison both laugh at the way that Jackson comes down right then and gives them both a wrinkled look. Everybody is at the club tonight to celebrate how perfect everything turned out (yeah, three people died, but they _were_ Stiles' least favorite people). Obviously Jackson didn't really know what was going on in the first place, but Lydia is excited about all of it, so she made him come down anyway.

"You are so amazing," Derek says, setting Stiles down and flicking the cat ears he's got up on his head. "The cutest kitten I've ever seen."

Stiles grins, showing off the fake fangs. "Careful," he says, holding up fake-clawed hands. "Cute kittens can steal leave scars."

"Oh my _god_," Jackson says, walking over to where Lydia is doing her make-up. "Shut up, would you?"

Stiles smirks at him. "You're just jealous that Lydia doesn't dress up for _you_."

Lydia laughs. "Why would he want me to dress up when I'm already gorgeous?"

Stiles gives a good natured eye roll. "You are so conceited."

"They don't call me the Banshee for nothin', _Kitten_."

"Alright, enough," Scott says, taking Stiles' hand. "Guess who's upstairs, man!"

Stiles' eyes widen. "My _dad_ showed up to watch me _strip_?"

Allison laughs. "He's only here for one drink, Stiles. Calm down."

Stiles lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh good."

Stiles already explained everything about him and Derek to his dad, and of course he's all for it. He's probably excited to see Lydia again for the first time since high school, too. And Stiles? Well…

He looks around, watching how Lydia is puffing perfume into Jackson's face so that he chokes a little, and Aiden and Ethan are smacking each other with towels over at the showers, and Derek is holding onto Stiles' tail, and everybody else is upstairs dancing and making money. And who wouldn't be excited about that? Stiles is. Stiles is excited just to be alive.

_**-THE END-**_


End file.
